HOPE

I EXPLORED THE HOUSE first. Not that there was much to explore. It looked like an old forester's cottage, nestled in amongst trees that seemed determined to keep it hidden, keep it safe. There was a little strip of overgrown garden in front of the red brick structure. A fence made of rusting iron railings skirted the walls, hemming in beds of blooms. Wildflowers were in abundance and the inside of the house was as pretty as the outside.

There was a bedroom upstairs, the bed covered in faded blankets. Next to that was a tiny bathroom. There was a lounge downstairs with a coal fire and then the kitchen, the cupboards filled with tins and packets, nothing fresh. I got the feeling he didn't come here very often.

I sat at the counter in the kitchen to think. He hadn't looked scared on the way here, his chin set, his eyes fixed on the road ahead. But there was something in his manner that scared me anyway. He looked like he was capable of anything, that there was a barely contained fury bubbling somewhere under the surface. I was just glad that his anger wasn't aimed at me.

I felt sorry for the man he'd hired, one more person who'd been hurt because of me. As I sat there, I heard thuds coming from the garage so I went outside to investigate.

The door to the garage was open and I could see him in there. He'd taken off his top, sweat running down his chest as his fists pummelled a punchbag that dangled from the ceiling.

The bag was white with red spots coating the surface. It took me a moment to realise the spots were blood.

"You're hurting yourself," I said, walking towards him.

He jumped slightly, turning to face me, his chest heaving. "Huh?"

"You're hurting yourself," I said, taking his hands in mine. "Look."

I turned his hands flat so he could see the grazes on his knuckles. "I hadn't noticed," he muttered.

"Come with me," I said, leading him back into the house. "Have you got a first aid kit?"

"Over there, next to the oven."

I opened a cupboard door and dug out some antiseptic, applying some to his knuckles as he winced like a hero from a cowboy movie.

"Why is that?" I asked.

"Why what?"

"The hero can withstand any amount of punches, stabs, even bullets. But one dab of a cloth from the heroine and he winces like it's the most agonising thing in the world."

"Maybe because it hurts?"

"Oh, did I hurt you?"

"Not really," he said, reaching for a length of bandage and unravelling it slowly. "I can think of something that would make me feel better though."

I looked at the bandage and then at him. Was he doing this to distract himself from thinking? I realised I didn't care. It would distract him, at least for a little while. And it would distract me. And, I wanted him to do it.

"Into the bedroom," he said, bringing two lengths of bandage with him, the ends trailing behind him. Once I was in there, he set the bandages down on the bed before turning his attention to me.

He didn't say a word as he lifted my dress from my body, tossing it aside as he looked down at me. "Fuck, you look good," he said, reaching behind my back to unhook my bra.

As my breasts came free, he grabbed them, groping them roughly, leaning down to suckle on each nipple in turn.

"Panties off and onto the bed," he said, watching as I obeyed him.

I turned away, lowering them whilst bending at the hips, feeling his attention fixed on my ass. I'd forgotten about everything but him by that moment and it was a few seconds after I was laid down that I remembered the bandages.

He tied one length around my right wrist, looping it over the end of the wooden headboard. He made a knot before attaching the other end to my left wrist, leaving me bound with my hands up above my head.

I watched him, feeling more turned on as he did the same to my ankles, spreading them apart and binding them to the bed until I was spread-eagled and unable to do anything about it.

He stood back, admiring his handiwork for a moment. "You look incredible," he said. "And now I can do anything I want to you."

"Anything at all," I agreed.

He began to undress, taking his time, knowing I was aching for him already. It was the first time I'd seen him completely naked and the sight took my breath away. His muscles stood out in the light, his cock already rock hard. I knew how it felt to have that inside me and my body tingled at the thought of it being in me again.

He climbed slowly onto me, kissing his way up my legs to my pussy, his tongue delving into me, lapping inside whilst he reached up to tweak my nipples.

I've no idea how long I was laid there but it seemed to take forever for me to get what I wanted. Every single time he came close to slipping into me, he moved away, letting me taste him in my mouth, stroking my clit, playing with my body, using me, tormenting me, driving me wild with need.

When he finally lay on top of me, looking into my eyes, he made me beg him. And beg I did.

"Please fuck me," I muttered, pushing my hips ineffectually up at him. "Please."

"Seeing as you asked so nicely," he said, reaching down and easing himself into me.

I let out a groan and as I did so, he plunged his tongue into my mouth, kissing me deeply whilst beginning to rock back and forth inside me.

I came in under a minute, the combination of so long being teased and the feel of him rubbing against my clit enough to drive me over the edge as he continued to thrust into me.

I screamed through my orgasm, wanting to grab him, to hold him in me. But my limbs were bound and I could only lay there whilst he continued to torment me, slowing down, pulling free, easing his way in again.

He slid out and into my mouth, making me taste my own wetness before he returned to bring me to a second even more powerful climax within minutes.

He grew faster with his thrusts as time passed, teasing me less, using my body to bring himself to an orgasm that made him grunt into my mouth, his body shuddering as he filled me with his creamy spunk. It felt warm, giving me a wonderful sense of fullness that remained even as he eased out of me and came to lay next to me, his hand on my chest. He kissed my neck gently before putting his head back on the pillow.

"Going to let me go?" I asked.

"Never," he replied, his hand sliding down to my stomach. "I'm never letting you go."