Curfew Page 2

  I closed my eyes and leaned my head back on the seat. He wanted me. I felt that desire in the hard length he pressed into my legs when he held me on the ground. If only I could win him over, entice him to use me for more pleasant things. My stomach convulsed as I thought of the more distasteful reason he wanted me. Would it hurt? Would he tear my throat out, ravage me in a cruel manner? Would my first night as his captive also be my last?

  I’m afraid. I wanted to scream it at him. I am afraid. The cool mist floated about my head again, freezing my brain. My eyes flew open to glare at his head. He did this to me.

  “Yessss…” His whisper caressed my ear though he still faced forward, driving the car.

  The mist continued to coil around my head, writhing in my hair, stroking my cheeks. My racing thoughts slowed, my body relaxing. He controlled me, but I no longer cared and I allowed him to make me sleep.

  * * * *

  Alex picked me up for our date, and brought me to his condo. As I walked through the door, he bellowed at me.“Freeze, lady. This is the police.”

  I giggled and remained motionless, my hands over my mouth as I acted out my surprise. “But officer, isn’t there something I can do for you to change your mind?”

  He swaggered over to me, his exaggerated steps hilarious, and he carried his handcuffs on his index finger, swirling them around in a lazy circle.“Come with me ma’am.” He spoke with such authority it made my hair follicles tingle. He led me into his bedroom where he had dozens of taper candles lit, suffusing the room with an inviting warm glow.

  “Get over here.” He took me by the arm and pulled me over to the bed, slapping one of the handcuffs on my wrist and the other to one of the brass bars in the headboard. Then, he picked me up around the waist and tossed me in the middle of the bed, jumping on top to fasten my other hand in the same manner.

  “Officer, sir, what’re you doing?” I squirmed on the bed as if trying to get away. Alex stopped, looked at my clothes, and then my bound hands.

  “Damn, I should’ve taken your shirt off before I put the handcuffs on, huh?” We laughed together and then I grew serious, my desire soaking the thong underwear that I wore just for him and our love play.

  “Tear my shirt off, Alex, oh, I mean Officer.”

  * * * *

  I awoke to motion and the warmth of the sheriff’s arms, my dream gone in an instant. What a way to wake up. I tried to crack my eyelids and peek without him knowing. My head lolled and I could see nothing but the sky above, then the leaves of a tree he carried me under and again the sky with dark clouds obscuring the starlight.

  He stopped, propped his foot on something and rested my hips on his bent knee. Ah, he opened a door. I should scream for help now before he could get me inside my prison.

  Before I could pierce the night with my shriek, he dashed in the building and slammed the door behind him. Still holding me in his arms, he raced through the dark house, tightening his grip as I tried to get away.

  “Oww, you’re crushing me.” I tried again to get out of his arms, to no avail.

  “Be still or I will do more than just squeeze you. And, don’t think about screaming. Unless, of course, you wish to spend your time here with tape over your mouth.” As he spoke I caught a whiff of his breath—strange that he smelled of butterscotch. But at that same moment, I realized that right below my body, on his side—his gun. If I could just get my arm, oh, damned handcuffs…

  He dropped me. I landed with a small bounce on something soft, a bed perhaps. In a flash, the light came on and he stood towering over me, his lips twisted into a horrifying grin. I couldn’t tear my eyes away from his pointed fang teeth. My breath came in short pants as I continued to stare, my mouth dropping open—but I still seemed to be unable to move air into my petrified lungs.

  “I’m hungry.” His words stabbed into my heart and his metallic gold eyes glowed—the sun and its fiery twin blazing there in his face. I could no longer even pant. My entire body had been dropped into a vat of ice and flash-frozen. I couldn’t move at all.

  Sheriff Mironescu sat on the bed next to me. He studied his immobile captive, moving his eyes from my face to my stomach and below. What did he see? A slender brunette with a pert little nose, dimpled cheeks and rounded chocolate eyes? Or a blood-filled bag of smooth olive skin? By his expression, it seemed to be blood and only blood he saw when he looked down at me.

  “I don’t know why you look at me with such horror. You, my dear Sandy, sought one of the Elite. Well you found one. I just took you up on your offer.” He bent over now, his face inches from mine. His lips touched my cheek, his soft hair tickling my face as he moved to my throat. I steeled myself for the pain, wanting to scream, but my frozen voice would not cooperate. Delicate kisses dotted my skin, followed by the warm moist trail of his tongue. Parts of me thawed, secret parts warmed more and more as he sucked on my throat, licking and titillating me with tiny nibbles.

  All at once, I realized that he had released the spell and I could move again. My lungs filled with a sigh and my arms tingled as he ran his hand down to my cuffed hands and held them.

  Then came the sting of his fang teeth as he bit into soft flesh.

  THREE

  I cried out with some indistinct moan that sounded more like ecstasy than pain—for good reason. His lips moving against my throat gave me a thrill down to the tips of my toes. He removed the blood from my vein with quiet, tender skill. I languished in his wake, loving him for stealing my life away.

  A booming gong rang, over and over, faster and faster, splitting my ears with its escalating beat. I realized—with horror—that my own labored heartbeat created this sound and that echoing crescendo sent a red flag to my muddled brain. Danger. Danger.

  “Stop.” My feeble cry made no impression. I struggled against his restraining hands and deadly mouth. He groaned with displeasure but continued his assault. I gathered my strength, lifted my legs and bucked against him.

  “Stop. Please, you’re killing me!” With a violent wrench of his head, he jerked his fangs from my neck and fell on his butt, beside the bed. With his head in his hands, he muttered an apology—perhaps. I couldn’t hear him, other than the soft timbre of his muffled voice. His chest heaved with his heavy breath and for a moment I thought he might be ill, but then he lifted his head. The hunger still blazed in those golden eyes. Was he staring at the trickle still seeping from the wound on my throat? My drained veins cringed and my shrunken heart skipped a beat.

  In one violent motion, my kidnapper jumped to his feet and ran from the room.

  Surprised, I didn’t move—lying there staring at the door, waiting for his return. Then it dawned on me that I could leave this place. He had forgotten to bind me; the handcuffs would not stop me from lifting the window here by the bed. Watching the door, praying that he would stay away, I sat up and scooted to the edge of the bed. The heavy wooden headboard knocked on the wall behind it and I froze, holding my breath. Surely he heard that bang.

  He didn’t come running into the room, so I stood and dashed to the window. With a flip of the lock, I lifted the window all the way, and pushed the screen out. It fell into the shrubbery under the window without a sound. Oh these blasted handcuffs. So hard to use my hands with my wrists clamped together. I fumbled, trying to figure a way to climb out without making noise then just sat on the windowsill and swung my legs around to slide them outside. A wave of nausea assaulted me as I hung there, my legs kicking the bushes outside. Oh hell—I’m about to faint.

  My head floated away from my shoulders and my world tilted as I plunged face first into the sheriff’s thick shrubs. The pain from a hundred scratches shot me out of my swoon in an instant. Damned holly bushes. The prickly plants caught in my long dark hair, my clothes, and in the stupid handcuffs making it difficult and painful to escape their grasp. After a struggle, I managed to get out of the holly and scramble to my feet. I had no idea what part of town he lived in, had no clue where to go. I saw lights in the distance
so the sheriff did have neighbors, but the closest one looked to be a mile or more away. I had to run.

  My feet had grown four sizes larger than they were last time I tried to run from the sheriff, and the fuzziness in my head seemed to be getting worse. I plodded along in the dark, stumbling and falling over and over until I bumbled into a small copse of trees that gave me a slight feeling of security. I could see his house, the light in the window where I made my escape.

  Oh no. The sheriff’s figure leaned out of the window. Shit. He was searching for me. I had not put enough distance between us yet. Shit. Shit. Shit. My pulse dancing a maniacal jig, I lurched into a disjointed run. The darkness swallowed me whole. I could see little more than a few feet ahead as I sprinted like a hunted animal through the trees. I made it to the other side of the small grove and fell when the ground dropped away. My body slammed against a rock. My hands groped for anything to stop my descent. Nothing. The rolling continued. I bounced off sticks, stumps, stones. I prepared to die.

  In an amazing stroke of luck, my cuffed hands snagged on a jutting tree branch, jerking me to a painful stop. I slid toward the rock face, hooked there as surely as if I had been nailed to the cliff.

  Excruciating pain in my wrists. Broken? No time to think about it. I wavered on the edge of consciousness, the pain alone kept me aware. I dangled by those torturous handcuffs that I had cursed a moment before—saved from a drop that may have killed me.

  Alive. But no way to move now. I could do nothing but hang there. I did manage to wrap my hands around the branch so that the metal rings didn’t cut into my flesh. I didn’t have the strength to pull myself back up the edge of the precipice with injured wrists. In my mind, I had only one alternative.

  “Sheriff.” My weak voice would never reach him on the other side of those trees. I had to try again.

  “Sheriff Mironescu—help.”

  My wrists throbbed. I didn’t know how long I could hold on. He just had to find me.

  “Help. Sheriff, please help. I’m over the cliff!” I had no idea if he had super sensitive hearing to go along with his mind reading abilities. Sheriff, help me—I’m over the cliff. I screamed at him with my mind.

  I didn’t want to cry, but the tears came. I hurt. I had no hope of escape and I hurt. I hurt. I hurt. Well if nothing else, maybe he could follow the sounds of my sobs to find me. If indeed he wanted to find me.

  I could hold on no longer, my fingers slipped from the branch. The cuffs snapped tight and tore the skin on my wrists. Blood ran, lubricating the metal clamps and my hands slid through the rings this time. I faded away; glad that I would not feel the impact.

  In my dream, a powerful hand clamped to my forearm, lifting me into nothingness.

  * * * *

  “Sandy…” Delicious suave voice in my ear. Cool fingers on my cheek. I opened my lids to see my face reflected in the deep shimmering gold of his eyes. Glorious long eyelashes rimmed those pots of gold. Where am I? Lying on something comfortable—must be back in the bedroom. So tired, my eyelids grew heavy.

  “Sandy? Look at me, honey.”

  Honey? Why was he being so nice now, after what I’d done? I forced myself to remain awake and watched the sheriff as he hovered over me, my nurse, my rescuer. Oh, my hands and arms ached. I glanced down to see white wrappings from my elbows all the way to my fingertips.

  “I believe you broke both of your wrists and most likely tore ligaments and tendons in your elbows and shoulders.” He glanced down at my arms then back up to my face.

  “I’ve given you something for the pain.”

  “Thanks for saving me, Sheriff.”

  “Call me John, please.” He started to get up but I reached for his hand and clasped it in my bandaged one.

  “Please don’t go.” I tugged on his arm, pulling him closer to me, this, my savior. My arm didn’t hurt as bad as I thought it would. I wanted him near me. For reasons I could not explain, I needed him near me. He stared down, such a caring look on his rugged face. I smiled and he smiled back, so different from the man in the uniform.

  He wore blue jeans and a baby blue t-shirt now. This attire proved just as sexy as the starched shirt and badge. Reaching over me, he picked up my arm, running his hand down the bandage and to my fingers, moving one then another finger, watching my face as he did so.

  “Does it hurt when I move your fingers?”

  I shook my head, no. Lifting my arm higher, he grasped my shoulder with his other hand and massaged the muscles there, his firm grip sending sparks of fire down to the pit of my stomach—and below.

  “How bout your shoulder, does it hurt?” I shook my head again and he put my arm down, moving his hand to my neck where it joins to my shoulder. The sprinkling of tiny black hairs across his hand, his wrist bone and his forearm made my pulse race. Muscles bulged in his powerful arms and I wanted to feel that strength holding me. My breath caught in my throat when I met his eyes once more. I ran my tongue over my lips, slow, from one lip to the other.

  John took the bait. He bent to kiss me, his lips warm and greedy as they met mine. I whimpered when he broke away and that was all the invitation he needed to return once more, shoving his tongue between my lips to ravage my mouth. He tasted of warm butterscotch, so sweet and sticky that he should be banned from any diet. I ran my tongue over his smooth even teeth, searching for those sharp ones that pierced my throat. He pulled away, raining kisses across my cheek to my jaw and there he nibbled my ear lobe and warmed the canal with his breath. I wrapped my arms around his back, pulling him closer, trying with my broken body to show him I wanted him.

  He knew.

  His liquid gaze holding mine, he pulled me to a sitting position in the bed. With a tiny smile, he looked down at the bottom hem of my filthy shirt, then tugged the shirt over my head and tossed it to the floor. Seeing my sports bra, he seemed a bit confused. No hooks to unfasten.

  “It pulls over my head.” Suddenly shy, my voice refused to come out but he heard my whisper because in one swift motion, he pulled the bra over my head as well. My tawny nipples hardened in the cool room, but his heated gaze warmed me from the inside out.

  Glancing down at his crotch it pleased me to see the rather large bulge pushing against his zipper. He noticed me looking and rubbed his hand across the swelling, laughing under his breath as it reacted like a pet, pulsing against his hand.

  “He wants to come out and play.”

  John laughed at my silly comment and pushed me back down on the bed. Reaching behind him, he grabbed the back of his collar and pulled his shirt over his head. I thought I would just die when I saw his naked chest in all its glory. I wanted to touch…something…glide greedy fingertips over his muscles, his defined collar bone…his happy trail. But, he bowed his head before I could follow through and that lovely soft hair feathered over my skin as he captured a nipple between his teeth and swirled his tongue around and around. Nibbling then sucking my nipples, first one, then the other, his teeth grazed my flesh. At the back of my mind, the fear echoed. Would those sharp canines penetrate my breast?

  He tried but couldn’t get my entire breast into his hungry mouth. C cups are way more than a mouthful. His hand roved down to my shorts and I lifted my hips to help remove them. Now all that remained between his passionate fingers and my sex were soaking wet panties. John slid down, thrusting his head between my legs and ripped my panties to shreds with his teeth.

  “Ohhhh.” I moaned when his tongue plunged into my wet sheath. He lapped at my pussy and then parted my lips to stroke my clit with his powerful tongue. Again and again he licked at my engorged mound and his fingers slid into me, pumping in and out faster and faster with powerful thrusts. I felt the orgasm building, swelling from my vagina all the way to the tips of my suckled breasts. He increased the speed of both his tongue and his fingers and sent me hurtling over the top.

  “John, oh Johnnn.” I’d just lost my mind, every last bit of it. All thought processes now originated in my groin. Nothing else
mattered but this moment, this man.

  He was not ready to stop either. I could barely tolerate his attentions on those overly sensitive areas. I tried to squirm away but he would not allow it. Locking his arms around my thighs, he held me still while he suckled my roaring clit and moved his soaked fingers to my ass. Spreading my cheeks, he ran his slick fingers over that virgin area. Again he plunged two fingers into my heat and transferred my juices to my ass.

  I started to protest, but he stopped me with a stare as I watched his face over my mons.

  One finger slid into my tight anus. My reflexes automatically clinched and it hurt but he moved his finger with very slow strokes, in and out and I relaxed. Sucking harder and harder still on my throbbing clit, he continued his strokes, adding another finger to spread me open even farther. It surprised me, first that my body allowed this invasion and second, that it felt so good. Another orgasm rolled into me with the force of a steam engine. I screamed with this powerful eruption and arched on the bed, forgetting my injuries, forgetting everything but this deliriously wonderful ecstasy.

  Finally John released my thighs, rolling me over onto my stomach and patting my ass cheeks with his palm. I heard his zipper as he pulled it down and his jeans hit the floor. I couldn’t resist, I had to turn and look. His penis stood straight out, hard as marble and the longest, thickest organ I had ever seen. He moved closer and I saw something else, something strange, something on his penis I have never seen before. What was that? BARBS?

  FOUR

  John stood, proud and erect beside the bed. I could see him clearly now and what I thought of as barbs, thank goodness, not sharp at all, but ribbed instead. Ribbed for my pleasure? Sounds like a condom commercial, but that was no condom.

  I continued to admire his dick and he allowed it. He must know that as a human, I had never seen such an appendage. No foreskin, but it didn’t look like he had been circumcised, not that I knew much about the mechanics of foreskin and its removal. Right behind the head of his cock, a series of ridges extended at least halfway around him. Without wrapping my hand around that massive weapon I couldn’t know for sure. The ridges stopped several inches from his body so that they covered about one third of his total phenomenal length.