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High Profile (ShadowOfDesire and Catalyst)

Her skin dimpled as he touched her, fingers causing a rush of goosebumps over her skin. She hissed as his fingers crept upward, squirming again. Her stomach drew inward as though it could escape, though inwardly it trembled. It was difficult to ignore the way her body responded, but it wasn't his touch that it craved. It was any touch. She was accustomed to having her boyfriends hands running over her skin, caressing her during foreplay, and her body responded despite being caressed by a stranger.

A swell of relief flooded her as he stopped short of assaulting her again and began to rise. She drew in a deeper breath once his weight lessened, providing her with more freedom. Once he'd slipped off the mattress, she turned on her side and scooted closer to the headboard to allow her aching arms to relax. As he'd tied her to the central figure in the intricate frame, she couldn't scoot from one side to the bed or the other, but she could sit up and huddle against the headboard. She might even be able to curl on her side and sleep while she waited on him to finish and finally release her.

Until he moved away, however, all she did was glare. It wasn't just the situation that angered her -- it was him. Especially his smug attitude and superiority. His disdain for her and her lifestyle was blatantly obvious. She could understand why he'd be frustrated at being interrupted and the inconvenience of having to babysit her while he was busy with the important task of spying on people he needed to kill, but he didn't have to be such a dick about everything. He's enjoying this, she thought. He gets the chance to torment me, and he's enjoying himself despite the annoyance.

It made her hate him even more. A sadistic man would have just killed her. An apathetic man would have confined her to a single room, kept her bound and gagged, and only saw to her basic needs as necessary. This man was going out of his way to tease her in the worst way imaginable, simply because he could.
 
The look in her eyes as she watched him staring back at her told the story all on their own; absolute, pure hatred. For that, he couldn't blame her. Coming home to an intruder only to be thrown around, held at gunpoint, groped, and tied up to your own furniture would have that effect on anyone. Quite frankly, the feeling was mutual. Her demeanor was everything he'd grown to hate about her type. The spoiled, entitled, self-important child of old-money who'd never been told no a day in her life, and never had to struggle for anything. As far as he could tell, the only life skill she'd developed was a tight, sexy body and a round ass. And up to that point, it had been working wonders for her.

Yet with all of that notwithstanding, there was something about that fiery attitude of hers that had taken him by surprise.

He glossed her over with his steely eyes and then turned his head with a low scoff whilst walking away from the edge of the bed, as though dismissing her entirely. "Stay quiet," he warned her one final time as he picked up his headset and sat back down in his chair. He'd given her the benefit of the doubt by leaving her legs free and her mouth uncovered, but he would not hesitate to change that if she so much as made one wrong move.

By the time his persons of interest had shown any signs of wrapping up their rendezvous, another hour and then some had come and gone, and he had grown somewhat tired himself. All of this fuckin' waiting, and you couldn't give me more than that? He cursed as he leaned back in his seat and stuck the end of a cigar between his teeth. He turned his attention toward the camera feed, inhaling deeply and releasing a cloud of smoke from his lips, just watching. But within a few minutes, what remained of it had been left smoldering in the ashtray he'd sat upon the cracked open window sill, and he was watching through his binoculars as the same vehicle that had arrived hours earlier now drove off out of sight.

That's right....Go ahead... He suddenly grinned. Take me home...show me what you're up to...
 
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Sofia leaned against the headboard while he continued to spy, staring sullenly at him for a while. She tried to make out who he was watching and why, but he was wearing headphones, so she couldn't hear the audio. Eventually, she grew tired of watching and lowered herself back to the bed. It was uncomfortable to have her hands bound to the headboard, but she moved the pillows about to lay sideways so she could curl up without straining too much.

She stared at the wall, running the scenarios through her head, wondering if she could have done anything differently. Yea, you could have played nice, been a good little girl, and just let him have his way with you. Not like he isn't going to, anyway. It was frustrating having one's liberty stripped away completely, being at the mercy of a stranger... a killer. She was fortunate that he hadn't killed her... yet, anyway. She didn't think he'd be leaving her apartment with wrapping up that little loose end, which left her very few options. She could continue to fight, hoping to break free, and find a way to escape. Or she could surprise him, give in, and hope to gain his trust.

He isn't going to trust me. He'll use me, but he won't trust me. Though she wasn't stupid, she really didn't see what other choice she had left. She was going to end up dead, one way or another, and fighting was only making him angry. Maybe, if she could get him to keep her around a while, she'd find her opportunity to escape.

It seemed a sound plan, but it all hinged on him and whether he'd slip up and let his guard down. Not likely, but I've got nothing else. It was a grim fact, but true. It pained her to think of giving that man anything he wanted. She'd have to mull it over to decide. If he became even more violent, she'd have a hard choice to make.

She didn't think she'd be able to sleep in such an awkward position, but at some point she drifted off, curled around a pillow like a child holding a stuffed animal. Her shirt had ridden up to her ribs, revealing her slender waist and a part of her back. Sleeping in an almost fetal position, her legs tangled with one another and crossed at the ankle. She still wore her underwear, but it did nothing to hide the perfectly rounded curve of her ass and her toned thighs. In sleep, her face had relaxed and all of the anger he'd seen had disappeared.
 
That little blip on the map told him everything he needed to know, flashing as it traveled predictably across the Main Channel, and then headed south down I95. Not only did it confirm all of the intel he'd already gathered, but it confirmed his own personal suspicions. Strip club my ass... he glanced down at the time. It's well past midnight on a Wednesday...so, Mr. DeSantos...what would you be doing going to Mr. Garcia's club in downtown Miami this late...when The Purple Room isn't even open tonight? And why would you be going there... just after leaving your little meeting?

He turned his attention back toward his hotel feeds once more as he heard the sounds of movement in the hotel room stirring once more. For some time, there had been relative quiet, with only the faint sounds of the television playing in the background, and the occasional cough from its once more lone patron. Now, an hour later, he was leaving. Of course, Mr. Garcia never had any intentions of staying, either. That was the predictable part. Now, all the rest of the pieces were beginning to fall into place. There was no vehicle to track, for him. unlike Mr. DeSantos, he'd been smart enough to take a cab much earlier on in the day. But with DeSantos already waiting at his club...well...the rest wasn't exactly a challenge to figure out.

Ironically, it seemed Mr. Garcia may well have been more keen on protecting himself than his primary target. Not that it should have surprised him. DeSantos was known for being a brilliant speaker and a fantastic businessman. When it came to covering his own muddy tracks, though, it seemed he'd never quite learned how to tie together his loose ends. Perhaps if he had, his days wouldn't be so numbered...

Once he was gone, there was little else to be done. Mr. Garcia had reserved the room for four days. Whether there was some purpose to that, or it was simply a way to throw off suspicion, he did not know. Regardless, his little bugs were well hidden. Short of tearing through the walls in an exhaustive and specific search, they would not be found. The camera feed in the lobby would be taken down by his connection in the morning and disposed of. It served him no further purpose. As for the GPS, so long as it remained or Mr. DeSantos' vehicle- as he had every reason to believe it would, it would record all of his travel data and store it. For now, it was simply a waiting game, and for him, that was just fine.

He powered down all of his equipment with the exception of that which was connected to the tracker, and leaned back in his seat as he pulled his phone from his pocket. His less than well-mannered approach seemed to have worked rather well on his clients, as well, as they'd left him alone, thus far. Either they were not yet aware of the Princess of South Beach's return, or they were terrified of what he would have to say to them once he knew. If it was the latter, they were correct. The only reason he had not yet called to make his wrath known was that his hands were tied...as were hers; and now, sleep simply sounded much less miserable than dealing with them.

He grabbed the ashtray off of the windowsill and flung its contents out into the air, forming a small cloud that would no doubt trickle down onto a passerby or two. Then he rose to his feet, shut the window and closed its translucent curtains, and turned around to see what had become of his newfound roommate.

Miraculously, the bitch had actually done as he said. That in and of itself came as nothing short of a surprise. He'd known she'd fallen asleep at some point, but not for how long, nor if she would wake up again for the night. As it were, though, she was all but lain out across the entirety of the pillows. He took a few quiet steps toward the edge of the bed and looked down over her. It was certainly not at all difficult to see the allure she had over the masses. Her face was exceptionally pretty, even with the evidence of recent tears and red all upon it, and her body went without saying, as close to perfection as any person could reasonably expect to lay their eyes upon.

His own eyes were not able to glimpse over for more than a second the tight, round ass that practically stared back at him. The slight pressure in his pants all but begged him to feel what lie beneath that thin fabric. He reached down and placed his hand over it, slowly and carefully feeling her up, as his eyes shifted between his touch and her face. It was not nearly enough to risk waking her up. The more he thought about it, the less he had the energy at that particular moment to do what he really wanted to do to her. Still, that did nothing to satiate the ache within...

There's no trouble in a little destresser...

It did not take but a minute for him to make up his mind. With his mind suddenly set on the need to get his rocks off, he unzipped his pants and pulled himself out from beneath his boxers. As he stood over her in the darkened room, the only dim, pale light coming from the moon and stars shining through the window, his hand wrapped around his already eager shaft, and he slowly began to stroke himself up and down his length, his gaze studying her even more thoroughly than before.
 
Sofia slept fitfully, more than a little tired after a day of traveling coupled with the stress of being abducted. However, she'd always been a light sleeper, and his touch sliding across her rear caused her to wake, though she didn't open her eyes. What was he doing? Was he going to assault her while she slept? Or just checking to see if she was truly asleep? Without moving, she lay still, breathing softly, and strained her ears to listen for movement.

The sound of the zipper sliding down was unmistakable, as was the soft shuffle of skin sliding against skin. He's jerking off?! He's jerking off right here in the same room with me as he watches me sleep like some serial killer. This was it. She could offer to finish him off to hope to put him off his guard. And then what? Suck him off? Fucking bastard.

Without opening her eyes, she spoke. "You know how seriously creepy that is? Go watch some damned porn like a normal guy."

She turned her head to stare at him in the fluorescence of the Miami night. Her gaze automatically dropped to the cock in his hand, unable to help herself. Mmm... impressive. At least he has that going for him. Pushing herself off the bed, she slid her bound wrists up the metal frame holding her until they were above her head. The position brought her tits up higher. Her top skimmed her stomach, revealing her navel and the glinting diamond inset there.

Her legs spread open as she strained against her bonds, arching her back slightly and striking a pose for him. "It this better for you?" she asked sarcastically.
 
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The surprise of hearing her voice caused him to stop momentarily, though he did not move his hand from around his length. He pressed his tongue against the inside of his cheek, huffing a single laugh once he realized she'd been aware of him.

"Hmph. Count your blessings," he responded firmly. "We both know I could be doing a hell of a lot more to you if I wanted..." he had met her gaze when she turned toward him, and that made it all the more obvious as she allowed it to flit downward, obviously knowing exactly what she would see. Clearly, he was far from worried about her looking; in fact, he was more than happy to let her view it in all of its sizeable glory.

What he did not expect, however, was the way she moved. Not to hide herself from him, but to show him more. For a split second, she might have been able to see the look of confusion that crossed his face. That confusion, though, was quickly replaced as his attention was drawn to all that she revealed in her sultry little pose. His eyes narrowed, wondering what exactly it was she thought she was up to. Then again, does it really matter? he thought to himself, dismissing the notion. If this is her idea of doing something, I'm damn sure not going to stop her...

"Now that you mention it?" he quipped back snidely. "Yes, it is....Much Better..." His hand began to move back and forth once more, gliding over the skin of his cock as he looked her all up and down as though she'd put on display solely for his pleasure. "This is the kind of attention you like anyway, isn't it?" he remarked with a smartass tone as he stroked himself.
 
"Totally," she replied, in a similar mocking tone. "You know, whenever I take pictures, I sometimes think about the guys that look at them. Do any of them jerk off to me? It's flattering, really. And I've had a few guys whip their dicks out at the club trying to get me to play with them."

Her eyes dipped again to the hand still stroking that impressive cock, one delicate eyebrow lifting. "Never had a creeper start wanking it right in front of me until now, though. Call me sheltered." They both knew she was anything but. However, she'd never been in this exact situation. "With as much as you bag on my chosen profession, you must like what you see. Or do you find me ugly and are just that desperate for female attention?"

Her shoulders pressed back against the headboard as she shifted to sit upon her knees, thighs still spread wide to hint at that shadowed cleft between them. As she arched, her breasts strained against her shirt. A pink tongue ran in slow circuit over her lips before she captured the lower one between her teeth for a moment. She didn't moan audibly, but her body seemed to in the way she surged upward into her pose.

"You know they make us ice our nipples to keep them hard?" Her arms lowered until her hands rested atop her head. She turned her face slightly, chin raised, altering her pose slightly. Her eyes flicked down to her full breasts, hardened nipples already dimpling the fabric. "Some of us don't need that, though."
 
"Yeah, right..." he scoffed. "How many millions of people follow you? You know damn well there's probably a dozen or more guys fantasizing about fucking you senseless right now...and you love every second of it." Once more, he caught those eyes of hers wandering, their destination no mystery, though it appeared she was not making any secret of it. "Oh, I aaabsolutely think you're an entitled, prissy little bitch, and I wouldn't exactly call what you do a profession...but that don't mean I can't enjoy the way you look doing it."

The way she moved as she shifted her position only served to reveal more of her skin to him, as her shirt slid evermore upward and her underwear began to ride up further, hugging the mound he'd already taken the pleasure of momentarily feeling as she settled on her knees. There was no mistaking now what she was doing. She was trying to seduce him. And quite frankly, she was definitely succeeding.

The images that she stirred up, and the attention she drew to her own body with her little comments were working like a charm, fueling him to stroke himself more intently with each passing second. Already, he was almost as hard as he could be, and the full size of him was obvious, swelling in his hand. The pale midnight light that poured in through the windows fell practically perfectly upon the bed, illuminating her smooth, tan skin, and allowing him the perfect view. Now this, he thought, is a photo op people would pay for.

He glanced down at his own cock, and then stared right back at her, daringly. "You talk a lot of shit, yourself, princess...but clearly...you like what you see, too...now don't you?"
 
Her eyes dipped again, lingering on that cock of his, a slight smile teasing at her lips. "Well it certainly isn't as small as I thought it'd be," she said dismissively. "Nothing I haven't seen a millions times before sliding into my DMs every single day. Some men just can't wait to show off their cocks. I see you're one of those. Would you have still whipped it out if I'd been awake when you got done with your business?"

"Mmm... I know. You're one of those guys that likes it when someone's watching, aren't you? You want her to see what's coming her way? To see that monster that you'll be ramming inside of her soon?" A slow smile spread across her lips. "Yea, you do, don't you?"

The faster he stroked, the sooner he'd be done. At least that was her logic. And it was better to tease him than to simply lie there and pretend to be asleep while he grunted and moaned over her. She doubted she could stay still that long without laughing.

Changing position again, she lowered herself again to the bed, until her sex almost touched the mattress. Her hips shifted forward and then back teasingly, body undulating a fraction until she found another pose she liked and paused, stomach tight as she held herself slightly away from the wall.
 
"Oh I've bet you've seen all sorts of cocks..." he remarked. "Probably taken more than your fair share, too...but that don't mean any of it was any good." he raised his eyebrow at her.

"Hmm..." he acted as though he really needed to ponder that. "I suppose you could say that...somethin' about the way someone like you ends up not being able to help herself but lookin' at it...thinking about it...especially when they try to act like they aren't."

That smile on her face was growing wider by the moment. Either she really thought she had a plan...or she really was loving this. Her new position was especially enticing; the way her body rolled as she worked herself into position, and her thighs opened wide. "Mmm...getting better..." he smirked devilishly. He found his own tongue subconsciously flicking out over her lower lip, as he pulsed in his own grasp.

He took a step closer to the head of the bed, and then another that brought her within arms reach. He looked her over, and released his cock from his right hand, only to replace it with his left. As he ran his hand back and forth in long, deliberate strokes, from the base of his cock to the tip, he reached over and touched her stomach, staring into her eyes. That look...it was a clear challenge.

If you want to make this a game...lets see just how long you can play it...

"...But I think you can do even better." he goaded as his glided his fingers across her naval.
 
She shivered at his touch, hissing as his fingers caressed her skin, leaving a fiery trail in their wake. Despite the teasing, her pussy was beginning to throb as she watched him, unable to stop the response of her body as she watched his hand slide back and forth along his length. What is it about him that makes me horny? He's dangerous. Perhaps that was the point. He was dangerous, and while she'd never seen him kill, she had no doubt that he could if pushed to it.

And he fucking wants me, too. He wants to fuck me. I can see it in his eyes. Should I let him? Sofia knew that if she started down that path, he wasn't going to be content with simply stroking himself in front of her. He was going to want more. And more after that.

Even so, she continued, not willing to back down from the game she started. She rose up on her knees once more so that his hand slid a touch lower, dipping over the flat of her stomach toward the underwear he'd invaded earlier. Her panties had grown damp again, though the stain was merely a dark shadow among the darker shadow between her thighs. She met his gaze, rising to the challenge, daring him to continue. At this point, she had nothing more to lose except her dignity. Or whatever dignity remained to her. She'd long since compromised most of it in favor of her career.

"What would you know about better?" she asked quietly, eyes narrowing in the darkness. "Who are you to critique me? I can't tell you how to kill people. You think you can tell me how to pose?"
 
His line of sight drifted downward to his hand, which by virtue of her movement now lingered right at the top edge of her underwear. She's still going with it, huh?

"Me, well, I'm just a viewer. You ought to want to please your audience, shouldn't you?" he taunted. "After all, you might know how to pose, but I know what I like to see..."

Suddenly, she was full of surprises. She hadn't even tried to stop him once. Whatever game she was playing, she was committed. If nothing else, she was a stubborn one.

Alright then, He decided silently as he realized what she'd done, both far too sure of himself, and faaar to concerned with the throbbing member in his hand to think about anything else. Her thighs were spread so wide, they were practically welcoming him to lower his touch at will. And so that was exactly what he did, watching his own had as he dragged his touch downward over the cotton fabric until he could feel the saturation that coated it. He pressed his fingers against that spot, confirming his suspicions, and met her eyes with an expression that told exactly what was on his mind.

"You really are enjoying this," he spoke lowly, calling her out confidently. "Hmph...and you call me the creep." He continued to test her, even as his fingers began to move subtly, in rhythm with the motions of his hand at his own shaft.
 
"Maybe I like creeps," she purred. Her breath hitched as his fingers found her sodden panties and rubbed her sex lightly through the garment. "Maybe I would have even liked you if you weren't threatening my life and holding me hostage. Maybe I like the dangerous guys that know how to handle themselves."

Nibbling at her bottom lip, she stared up at him as her body arched against his hand. "Or maybe I'm just bored as hell lying here and want something to pass the time. And since you're offering, maybe I can get something out of it, too."

"That doesn't mean that you still aren't a creep," she pointed out.

If he only knew the fire he was stoking inside her, he'd know her talk was idle chatter meant to desperately hide how she really felt. Her body quivered, aching, clit throbbing. She shivered again from his touch, biting back a moan.
 
"Mmmm..." he hummed gruffly, pressing against her with his hand, his other squeezing his cock that much more tightly. "Maybe so..." his deep voice agreed. "I wouldn't doubt it for a second..."

She didn't need to tell him that she was turned on. Her body had already thoroughly betrayed her to that effect. She also didn't need to tell him that what he was doing was making it worse. That, he could feel not only at the tips of his fingers, but in the little movements all throughout her that occurred as a direct result, and the changes that had come across her face as she looked back at him. But to hear her relent in such a way came as yet another small surprise, nevertheless. He was sure she just wanted to tease him. Perhaps that was all she wanted, at first.

He cocked an eyebrow at her suggestion, having gotten the best of him. "Oh, is that so?" he asked rhetorically, letting his fingers slow to a near halt just over her warm, wet sex, her heat positively radiating through her panties. "And what exactly do you think you can get out of it? hmm?"
 
"The obvious," she groaned when he stilled. He'd left her sex throbbing with need, which made her squirm on the bed. "Satisfaction. Pleasure. You get off. I get off. I think that's a win-win scenario, don't you?"

"I don't like you. You shouldn't be here invading my life, trespassing, using my things. But I don't want you to hurt me again, and I don't want to be tied up all the time. So maybe we can call a truce for our mutual benefit?"

Her hips shifted, pressing her hot sex against his hand once more. "Wouldn't that be easier than fighting?" She was willing to comply - to a certain point. What that point was, she didn't yet know, but she was sure he'd push her to it one way or another.
 
A truce, huh? So that's what she's driving at. He should have known. Still, he'd certainly heard worse propositions. She was his captive. The reality of it was, he could do anything he pleased with her at any moment, with a little bit of force. He needed no agreement for that. And she clearly knew that. What she was suggesting though, was not only enticing, but proof of her own desires, whether she had wanted to acknowledge them before that point, or not.

The way she moved against his touch certainly didn't hurt her case. It was becoming more obvious by the second just how much he was getting to her. And he was thoroughly enjoying watching her squirm.

"My my, for someone who claimed to have a boyfriend, you sure are willing, all of a sudden," he said with a cocky glint in his metallic eyes. "Its funny how fast things change when you're all helpless and horny, ain't it, princess?"

"Hell, sometimes a little bit of fight is half the fun," he smirked. He pressed his fingers even more firmly against her in response to her shift, that strip of fabric between her legs now hopelessly soaked in her own wetness. His cock was throbbing at the thought. What would a few short minutes ago have been at least temporarily satiated by his own hand was now aching for more.

"So what?" he asked wickedly, playing with her and with himself all the while. "You want a truce...you want your pleasure...and it sounds like you're trying to say you want me to untie you. So what if I do? What are you going to do about it, hmm?"
 
"I lied when I said I had a boyfriend," she admitted. "He's a piece of shit and the whole reason I'm home early. So really, you can blame all this on him. I dumped him. We're over, so that's not even a thing I have to worry about."

She bit back another groan as the pressure of his fingers returned a trifle harder than before. Slowly, her lower body rocked against his hand, wanting more of that delicious heat he was stroking to the surface. Her lips parted, glistening as she licked them slowly.

"What do you want me to do?" she asked softly. Her wrists strained against the rope tying her to the frame. She let her gaze sink to the hand stroking his cock. "I could help you with that. We could help each other."

"Hand job?" she suggested.
 
"Ahhh, is that right?" he responded to her admission, which helped him to connect several mental dots all at once. That explains a lot... "I should have figured as much..." he said under his breath. but if that's the case, perhaps I won't need to have anyone's head for this, after all...

He studied her with observant eyes, every move she made against him, every little shiver and reaction of her body. Her question had many answers. All sorts of things she could do for him. That he could do to her. He followed her gaze down toward his cock as she made her offer; It would have accepted the offer independently of him, if it could have.

"Mmm...that's not a bad start..." he said assuredly, as he turned her attention toward her hands still restrained above her head. His acceptance was conveyed as he pulled his hand momentarily away from her sex, and released his cock, though it still stood at full attention from the fly of his pants. He drew closer to her, well within arms reach, and from his pocket, he brandished that blade once more. this time, though, he reached up, digging the point purposefully beneath the rope at one of her wrists, and meeting her gaze before severing it with a single motion back toward him. The cut freed one of her wrists, leaving it free of all but the red markings the rope had left behind. The other, though, remained partially bound to the ironwork.

She most definitely wouldn't be satisfied with one hand being released. He knew that. But if she wants to make a deal, he thought to himself, it too was a start.

He looked her over expectantly, his expectations made clear, and his cock just waiting to be touched.
 
Sofia held her breath as he neared, that blade again so very close to her face. Her eyes followed it as it lifted to her wrists, gaze flitting back to his face briefly as she felt one hand fall free. She squeezed her fingers and rolled her wrist, working blood back into her extremities. A few moments passed when she realized he'd not freed her other hand. She scowled, glancing to the railing that held her and then back to him.

"Really?" she asked flatly, huffing. Her nostrils flared in that familiar way when she was about to pitch a fit, but the angry outburst never came. She tamped it down, realizing that he'd given her a small concession. If anything, it was a step in the right direction.

Sighing, she glanced down at his proud length and reached for it hesitantly. Fucking bastard. She could hurt him, if she wanted. She could squeeze and snap it sideways, bringing him to his knees, make him scream in agony. All it would take would be a sharp twist, too fast for him to do anything about until it was too late. But then, she'd have to live with the consequences. Her wrist was still tied to the headboard, leaving her with no escape unless she could grab his knife while he was down. But how long would he stay down? And how murderous would he be when he regained his senses? She couldn't risk it. He's a smart one, she thought wryly.

Her soft fingers, silken and callous free, wrapped about his length. She allowed a few, feather light swipe up and down his pulsing length, careful of the pressure and friction she caused. Roving down to his base, her eyes sought his as her fingers curled under, hefting his heavy sack. She'd done this before. That was obvious. She was too practiced and familiar with his cock to pretend otherwise. Rolling those balls lightly in her fingers, she gave each one a gentle tug, and then returned to his shaft. She watched his expression, watching to see what he liked, what pleased him. The more she knew about him, the more she could use against him.

"Come lay on the bed so I can reach you better," she murmured quietly, giving his cock a gentle tug toward her.
 
He fully expected her to snap at him for not releasing her completely. Clearly, that was what she'd been expecting, after all. So when he saw the look that came across her face, he couldn't help but grin to himself, despite the fact that she was so obviously keeping herself from saying anything further. "Really." he confirmed with a subtle nod, "just to make sure you don't try anything stupid." He had no way of knowing exactly what thoughts had been running through her mind at that moment, but it was apparent this was certainly far from his first experience with a captive...even if he seldom kept them for long. The years in his chosen trade had been for nothing. Every step of the way, even in spite of his superficial desires, he was meticulous, cunning, and he was always sure to think one move ahead.

Those slender little fingers felt fantastic from the moment they slipped their way around his shaft. Whether it was simply the impatient ache of his cock, which she'd already indirectly teased several times before that moment in their earlier struggles, or the exploratory nature of her touch all about him, it was immediately working wonders on him. He'd expected her to have experience; someone like her had probably handled more cocks than she could count, or so he assumed. But somewhere in the midst of all those cocks, she must have learned how to handle them rather expertly. The way his own pulsed and throbbed in her grasp as she stroked it, and the way his balls reacted to her touch was compounded by the pleasurable look that overtook his visage whilst he watched her.

He relented to her request, to the enjoyment she offered him. He climbed atop the bed, and lie beside her where she sat, still forced to stay closer to the head of the bed by the tie that remained. His new position gave her all the access she could need, or want, to him. But he didn't stop there, undoing his belt and the button of his pants, and pulling both down just enough to free himself fully. He braced himself up on his elbows as his gaze wandered all about her, from the soft, tan skin of her thighs and her toned stomach, and the thinly-veiled sex that lie between them, to those big, round breasts that still pressed against her shirt, nipples far too stiff to be contained, and even to her attractive face, and all of its subtly, sultry expressions as she looked upon him.

"No sense in trying to hide your tits from me, anymore, if this is where we're going, now is there?" he commented intently.
 
She watched as he undressed, eyes shifting from the cock in her hand to the sack she could now see. With it freed and without the tight restrictions of his pants that made fondling them difficult, she graced them with another moment of attention, slender fingers rolling them about as they lay against his thigh. As he shifted and made himself comfortable, she did the same, wrist sliding down to the bottom of the iron spindle that held her to the headboard. Her elbow rested against one of the pillows as she lay on her side, close enough to him that pleasuring his cock wasn't a strain.

Her gaze flitted briefly to his face, then down to her shirt, and she offered a one-shouldered shrug. Releasing his cock, she spit into her hand, and then went back to stroking, her spit mingling with his precum to provide lubrication. "Impossible to remove my shirt with one arm still tied to the bed," she pointed out. Her brow quirked. "But if you're thinking of going exploring and groping or sucking, then one of your hands needs to be down my pants. Two-way street, remember. If you're going to get me worked up like that, is it only fair that you finish the job."

For a moment, she couldn't believe what she was saying. How could she be touching him, much less giving him permission to feel her up? Why wasn't she feeling nauseated or repulsed by him? He'd assaulted her. He would have maybe even raped her if they hadn't been interrupted. And now she was willingly stroking him?

It's all part of the plan, she reminded herself. Just do it. It's the only way you're going to get free. Make him want you, keep you around, and maybe you'll find a way out.
 
As she lie down beside him, their faces were brought much closer now then they had been before. Closer then they had ever been for more than a brief moment without her either screaming at him or fighting to get away. He watched intently the look in her eyes as she masterfully toyed with his balls, and stroked him with her own saliva, right up until she spoke, causing him to cock his own brow. "Sucking, huh?" he smirked wickedly, wondering if she'd realized what she just said. "And who said anything about anyone sucking, just yet? Getting a little ahead of yourself, there, aren't you, sweetheart?" He teased her, shooting her a half-cocked chuckle beneath his breath.

"But hey, you're right...fair is fair." he agreed. When his large hand reached over, though, his first movement was not toward her panties, but toward her shirt. "And just because you can't take it off..." he said lowly. "don't mean they have to stay hidden." He found the bottom edge of her shirt, and lifted the fabric up inch by inch. His own hand, much larger and rougher than her own, glided up the midline of her body from her navel as he pulled it upward, until he found what he was looking for. Until those pert, full breasts were once again visible, and he left the lower hem bunched up near the top of her chest.

He glanced back at her face as he explored them, feeling them in his palm letting his touch brush over the erect nubs of flesh that stood out from them. Admittedly, sucking on them did not sound like a half-bad idea...

"Much better." he mimicked his earlier sentiment in a low, sultry tone, as he allowed his hand to slip away from her chest. Now, he began to oblige her request, propped up on one elbow as the fingertips of his hand sought out the fabric at her hips, and then dipped below to feel the wet spot she'd left behind, pressing against her lips through her panties for a moment more. This time, though, it was only for a few short seconds, before he slipped his hand beneath the cotton, and found his way back between her thighs, guiding her to spread them apart for him further, as his two middle fingers parted her velvet lips, and began to glide along her hot, slick sex unabated, from her pulsing little clit, all the way down to her silken entrance, and back again. All the while, his eyes were fixated on her, watching as she worked his cock, a barely audible groan escaping his throat.
 
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"I was... only speaking... of the inevitable," she said between soft gasps as he toyed with her generous breasts. Each time he brushed against her nipple, it sent another tiny spark of lust flowing to her sex. Her clit was throbbing madly again, pulsing in time with her heart, demanding her attention. The cold air on her bared breasts made her shiver, though it subsided as he closed in, and she could feel the heat from his body.

Her breath caught as his fingers trailed lower, she didn't bother swallowing her moans when his fingers dipped beneath her panties. Her sex was eager for his touch, and her hips rocked forward in welcome. He could see the pleasure ripple across her face as her lips parted and a soft shudder gripped her. Her legs spread apart a bit more to allow him access as she lay back, resting her head on the arm still bound to the headboard, eyes half closed in pleasure.

He was close. Too close. She could smell the cigar smoke on him and whatever deodorant or cologne he wore. She couldn't identify it, but it filled her nose, and she doubted she'd ever be able to forget it.

Her body shifted even closer to his, allowing them both an easier reach, as they pleasured each other. Her hand continued to stroke him, sliding up his length and then back down. When she reached his head, her palm grazed the pulsing tip, and rubbed firmly on the underside of his shaft. Gliding up and back, pausing now and again to fondle his balls, she watched at him with her lustful gaze, studying his expression as he studied her own. She was soon panting, body writhing against his hand, bucking in search of that pleasure.
 
"The inevitable?" He toyed. "I like the way you think..."

Fuck... he thought quietly to himself, the sound of her ragged breaths and deep moans reverberating in his ears, and the wet heat of her sex embracing his fingers. For all the shit he could talk about her, he found himself immediately entranced by those sounds as they escaped her lips. He did not like her, but he could not deny the obvious. She is incredibly fucking sexy...

Without outright saying it, she could not have made it any more obvious that she was wanting him to give her more and to pick up his pace. The shift allowed him a much greater range of motion, and he quickly began to take advantage of it. A series of low, guttural sounds had started to come forth from his throat as she worked him in all the right ways, making his cock twitch and ache. In return, his fingertips began to rove about her with even greater intent, rubbing her with all four fingers and pressing against her with that much more pressure as his they became coated in her desire. When he worked his way inside her, his finger slipped in and out of her tight cunt with little resistance from the sheer wetness that had overcome her, allowing him to pump it in and out of her with ever-increasing fervor.

Soon, he found her throbbing clit with his undivided attention. Two fingers brushed back and forth over it, slowly at first, and then beginning to move in tight little circles all around it as his palm pressed against her mound, little by little, getting faster, and rougher. He was staring back into her eyes as she looked at him, seeing the intense pleasure on her face and revelling in it. "Mmm...That's right...feels fucking great...don't it?" he growled out as his own hips began to move beneath her hand in rhythm with her strokes.
 
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Her high pitched moans were his answer, all he needed to know as she writhed beneath his hand. The way he stroked her clit had her squirming, bucking against him even harder, moaning low in her throat as she felt herself rising higher. Her hand began to slide up and down his length even faster, mimicking his own movements, wanting to drive him toward climax as he worked her body. She panted softly as she met his gaze, staring, transfixed by the way he looked at her. That dangerous gleam was still there, staring back at her, though he'd turned his smoldering anger toward something more pleasurable.

"Soooo good," she moaned in response, back arching slightly. Her breasts quaked with their movements, the mattress bouncing along with them. She held on tightly to the ropes that tied her down as she felt herself approaching the edge. "Yessss, like that. Just like that..."

"I'm going to..." she warned him, body tensing. "Tell me.... tell me your name. Give me a name..."

Sofia had plenty of one night stands with guys she'd just met, but she'd never fucked anyone without knowing their name. That was the mark of a pure slut, wasn't it? Even if she'd been drunk, so plastered she could barely stand, with a massive hangover the next morning, she'd always been able to remember the guy's name.
 
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