Syrena

When we’re finished with dinner, he asks, “Did you like it?”

I nod. “Yeah. Thank you.”

“No problem,” he replies. “All finished, or do you want a dessert?”

I hold my hand over my stomach. “No, thanks, I’m exploding right now.”

He laughs. “Okay, let’s go back home then.”

I take a deep breath as I get up, and he takes my hand again. Once I step out of this restaurant, he’ll take me back to his home, and I’ll be locked away from the world once again. Should I run with the risk I’ll never get to see the outside again? Because if I do … it’s bye-bye restaurants and movies. But if I don’t—and I let him woo me like this—there’s no telling what might happen. Because the sweeter he becomes, the harder I find it to resist him.

But I don’t want to be cooped up in his home forever.

Would he let me go if he loves me enough?

Or would it mean I’m no longer able to leave because of my own growing feelings?

I let out a sigh as he guides me out of the restaurant and back into the car. “Are you worried about something?” he suddenly asks.

“No, why?” I lie.

“You have this look on your face,” he muses.

“Oh.” There’s that blush again. Why is he always so good at spotting things? It’s as if he knows exactly what I’m thinking. But I don’t want him to know.

Seems like I have no choice in the matter with his people-reading skills, though.

As we’re on our way back home, I lower the window and enjoy the breeze a little, reminding myself that this will not be the last time I ever feel free again.

“You’ll see it again soon,” he says. “Promise.”

I don’t respond. I just hang my hands out the window and let the wind blow through my fingers, so I can remember how it feels. So I can last on this very moment, even if only for a little while.

Suddenly, he places a hand on my leg. “You did well,” he murmurs, squeezing softly. “It makes me happy.”

“Thanks, I guess,” I reply, licking my lips.

“You don’t have to say anything,” he says. “I know it’s conflicting to do what you think is wrong, but it’s best if we just start with trusting each other.” His hand moves down my thighs. “If we’d just allow these emotions, there’d be no struggle.”

My senses are all over the place as his fingers gently thrum the inside of my leg, reminding me of the effect he has on my body.

“I like this dress you’re wearing,” he says.

I know he does. That’s why he bought it for me. Short and revealing.

He closes the window as I pull my hand back in. Still, the closer he gets to my pussy, the harder it becomes to breathe.

“I like you a lot, Syrena. Stay with me,” he murmurs.

When his hand dives between my legs, I suck in a breath and hold. I can’t breathe.

He’s driving and touching me at the same time, and I can’t fucking think of anything but his hands playing with me. Driving me crazy with lust.

“Don’t think, just feel,” he says. And I do. My mind has already gone blank, completely void of any thoughts but him and the delicious sensations in my pussy.

He’s deliberately teasing me, sliding his fingers up and down my slit, and I let him. Even though my panties are still in the way, my clit still buzzes with excitement.

“I like the way you hold your breath whenever I do this,” he murmurs.

His fingers circle my clit, fondling me without shame even though we’re still in the car and he’s driving. He keeps his eyes on the road and his hand on my pussy like he owns both.

Slowly but surely, his fingers find their way into my panties. I feel as though I’m being watched—as if the outside world knows we’re doing something we’re not supposed to be doing—but I don’t want him to stop either.

“Do you like it when I touch you there?” he asks, dipping in and out of my wetness.

“Fuck …” I hiss, barely able to utter a word.

He hums. “That’s what I thought. And you know what else?” He pushes a finger inside me, making me gasp. “I can’t wait to get back home and claim that pussy as mine.”

He starts fingering me right there in the car with no regrets. It’s as if he doesn’t care that anyone could see us. As if all he wants is to see the heat on my cheeks and hear the moans coming from my mouth.

They’re definitely coming out now.

I lean back against the headrest, trying not to succumb to my growing desire to come, but it’s so damn hard. He knows exactly how to play me, knows exactly what buttons to push to make me squirm. To make me beg for more.

And he loves it. He loves the power he exerts over my body, how he can make me do whatever he desires.

Like now … when I slowly grasp for his belt buckle and free him, when I zip him down and take out his cock … he was waiting for it.

I can hear it in the chuckle coming from his mouth as I start to massage him. I can’t help it. When he touches me like this, I want to feel him. I want to feel that he wants me because it’s the only truth I know to be real.

So I let him finger fuck me while I jerk him off.

The car is jolting, and he’s slowing down, trying to adjust to his increasing needs … and lack of concentration on the road. I know it’s dangerous, but he initiated this game. It was his idea, so who am I to stop it?

Because that’s just it. I was never able to stop him from doing anything.

He is always in control … and I’ve even grown to like it.

When he touches my clit as he swirls around inside me, I moan out loud, and the sound makes his cock bob up and down in my hands. He enjoys the sounds I make. Loves to see me weak under his palm. It gets him off. I like that about him … it’s the only power I have over him.

So I moan louder and louder until his fingers play me so fast I explode all over his hand.

When he takes out his fingers, he immediately licks them off and groans with excitement. “Fuck, you taste so good. I’m going to lick your pussy so hard when we get home,” he says.

I’m still rubbing him, spreading his pre-cum all over his dick. But as his hand moves around my neck, I know what he really wants. So I bend over and start giving him head.

Soft, at first, licking my way up and down his shaft so he’s wet. When I lower my mouth around his length, he moans out loud too, and the car sways a little.

I grin. I love the way I affect him. That I can do something to him that makes him weak too.

While I’m still buzzing in the afterglow, I suck him off. His hand rests atop my head, guiding me up and down, his other hand still firmly on the wheel. The faster I go, the harder he gets. Veins start to protrude, and the pre-cum is flowing heavily onto my tongue, which I lather all over him. His hand pushes me down, forcing me to take him all the way to the base.

I gag and choke, pulling back to take a breath. But then I’m right back on him as he forces me down. The closer he gets, the more hard-handed he gets, pushing me to my limits, making me cough.

“Fuck, I’m gonna come down your throat,” he groans, shoving my face down against his legs. The tip of his cock bangs against the back of my throat. “Swallow,” he groans.

I wheeze as he roars. Seed jets onto my tongue and deep down my throat, causing me to choke on his cum. I swallow it down in a desperate attempt to breathe. Still, the cum that lingers tastes delicious even though I don’t want it to.

It’s already gotten me wet again.

Fuck.

I sit up, and he immediately kisses me. Quick, but hard. He takes my mouth like it’s always been his. As if there was never anything other than him and me.

Suddenly, his phone rings, and the kiss abruptly ends, only for him to jerk the wheel.

“Dammit,” he growls, pulling over.

I sit back and listen as he tucks his cock back into his pants and picks up his phone.

* * *

Chase

I hastily push the button on my phone and hope it’s short. I wanna get home and fuck the ever-living shit out of Syrena. I don’t have time to deal with other people’s bullshit right now. If it’s the company, I’ll tell them to deal with the problem. I’ll be ready for work tomorrow. Not now.

“We’ve got a problem.” It’s Brandon.

“What?”

“They’re at your house,” he says. “Graham’s men.”

“What?!” I scream. Syrena leans back, and I can almost feel the fear dripping off her. It’s not good.

“You didn’t watch your own goddamn back while driving home, and now they know where you live …”

“No. It can’t be. I made sure I wasn’t followed.”

“Well, they went to your office first and asked the people at the front desk where you were. They thought it was suspicious, so they called the police. The men left, but I followed them right back to your place.”

Then it hits me.

Graham … he must’ve caught my face on tape the moment the mask dropped off. With a few quick searches, my face pops up underneath my workplace. And my home address isn’t hard to find once you have that.

“Fuck,” I murmur. “Fuck!” I slap the wheel so hard, Syrena startles in fright. “He couldn’t do it himself, so now he sent his goons? Fucking pussy.”

“I’m sorry, man, but you can’t go home right now. They’re inside, right now,” Brandon says. “I’m watching them through the windows as we speak. Your ass is lucky I was there.”

“Fuck … my shit’s at my place.”

“Can’t go grab it now. And what do you plan to do anyway?”

“You know what,” I growl back. “No way they’re getting out of this.”

“They’re out to kill you, Chase. They brought guns, knives, a whole buttload of weapons. This isn’t some random search job; they’re hunting you down.”

I mull it over for a second, grinding my teeth. Then a vicious smile appears on my lips. “Well then … let’s give them what they came for.”

* * *

I park the car at the edge of the forest, out of sight, and turn toward Syrena. “Promise me you won’t unlock the doors.”

“What’s going on?” she asks.

I grab her shoulders. “Promise me.”

“You’re scaring me,” she says.

“Stay. Here,” I reiterate. “Tell me you understand.”

She nods slowly, but her body begins to shake underneath my hands, so I pull her close and press a kiss to her forehead. “I’ll be back soon.”

Then I get out and close the door behind me, locking the doors with my remote. I march toward the other end of the small forest, where Brandon parked his car. He immediately takes out a bag from the back, along with a bunch of rifles.

“Bring enough?” I ask.

“I brought everything.”

I grin. “Good. We’re gonna need it for these fuckers.”

“You sure this is a good idea?” he asks, placing the bag on the ground.

“What other choice do we have?” I take the binoculars from the bag.

“Well, there’s hiding,” he says.

“No fucking way. That son of a bitch led them to me. No way am I gonna let him get away with this.”

“You sure it’s him? It could be an angry buyer. The one who purchased the other girl. I’ve been keeping tabs on him. He seemed very agitated.”

“I’m sure,” I reply. “But that’s not it. Graham tore off my mask.”

“What?” he shouts. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

“I didn’t want to make a big deal out of it.”

“You know it is,” he grumbles. “He’s got you on video.”

“I know,” I say.

“How could you be so careless?”

“It happened. Nothing I can change about it now.” I put the binoculars in front of my eyes and peer into the distance. A few cars are coming close to the edge of the forest. “They’re here.”

“What now?” Brandon asks gruffly.

A devious grin spreads across my lips. “We lead them into the forest … and then we hunt.”

We march into the forest and take our positions in the middle, right behind a couple of thick trees. Then we wait.

They quickly appear through the bushes, their footsteps on the crackling dead leaves giving them away. I set up my rifle and take aim. One shot is all it takes to take one of them out cold.

The others immediately scatter while I reload.

“Flanks,” I say, as Brandon gets up with a cleaver in his hands and strolls off to search for them.

I keep my rifle aimed at one of the fuckers who didn’t manage to escape to a safe spot out of my sight.

Bang.

A bullet ricochets against the bark. He flees behind a tree.

I shoot again when his head peeks out, barely missing.

He doesn’t come out until five minutes later, after which I pull the trigger one last time. It hits his knee, and he goes down.

I grab the rifle and take it with me as I march toward him and take out my knife.

“No, no,” he says, crouching backward. “I’m sorry—”

I grasp him by the collar and growl, “Who sent you?”

“Graham.” He holds up his hands. “Please, don’t kill me.”

I spit on his face. “You came here to kill us?” When he doesn’t respond, I step on his balls. “Answer me!”

“Yes, yes,” he squeals. “But he forced us to.”

“No, you thought this was an easy payday,” I reply, pointing the knife at his throat. “Guess what? You were wrong.”

“Please, please, please,” he begs. “I’m sorry. I’ll go. I won’t bother you anymore. I won’t tell anyone about you. Please!”

I ignore his pleas. Instead, I jam the knife straight into his heart and watch him cough up the blood.

“Should’ve thought about that before you tried to hunt the hunter,” I muse as I pull out my knife and blood begins to pour out.

When I get up, a noise behind me alerts all my senses. I hold up my rifle, ready to pull the trigger.

But the face I see drags all the oxygen right out of my lungs.

“Chase?”

It’s Syrena.

She’s standing in the middle of the forest.

Her body covered in blood.

And right behind her is one of Graham’s henchmen.