Captive Ride Read Online Free PDF

somehow attaches the belt to something above my head.
    “You know, there are rings at the top of your posts. Why is that Amy?”
    “I don’t know,” I retort. “I bought this at a flea market.”
    “Have you used these rings before?” he asks silkily.
    I clamp my mouth shut. He doesn’t need to know what I’ve done in my past.
    “Answer me!” he snarls.
    My chin trembles at the sharp bite of his command but I turn my face to the side.
    “You’re going to be punished for that Amy. Either answer me or pay the consequences.”
    I squeeze my legs together to stop the pounding, ease the pressure, soothe the ache, but the tension only builds.
    “I can see that,” he says tightly. “I can see you trying to squeeze that cunt but that cunt is mine.”
    He kicks my legs apart and shoves a jean clad thigh between them. I never realized how weak I am.
    Heat sears me when the hard thigh meets the pulsing junction between my legs. Only soaked cotton and a rough denim separates my sex from his naked skin. I nearly orgasm at the thought.
    Against my will, I buck up against him, trying to get more pressure. I need something.
    He lets me ride his leg for a few seconds. The delicious sensations uncoil within me. I squeeze my legs tighter and ride him harder, reaching for that release. Just…a…little—
    He steps away.
    “No!” I cry. “Come back here, dammit.”
    “Tell me,” he demands, that hand in my hair again.
    “I was almost finished. Help me!” I pull against the leather belt. If I had my hands free, I could bring myself off.
    “Tell me what I want to know and I’ll give you what you want,” he snarls in my ear. The heat of his breath sends electric shocks down my spine. I try to wriggle against him, but he’s too far away and all I feel is empty air.
    Empty.
    I don’t want to be empty. I want him to fill me up with his tough body and crude words. It doesn’t matter that I can’t see him or that I’ve never done this with him before.
    “I’ve never used them before,” I say sullenly. “I thought they were decoration.”
    He grunts in satisfaction. His legs returns to that hot, needy place and even better his mouth lands on mine. No, that’s not right.
    His mouth devours mine. His tongue drives between my lips and he sweeps in to claim every inch. With every jab of his thigh and thrust of his tongue, he establishes his dominance over me. What I want, is what he decides to give me. When, where and how much. I am completely at his mercy.
    His hand dips between my legs and I forget how to breathe.
    “You have a hungry cunt, Amy,” he rasps. “You need it full of cock, don’t you?”
    I press my lips shut. He might be able to feel my body’s betrayal but my words are my own. His fingers tunnel into my hair and jerk my head back, a motion that’s just short of painful.
    “Answer me,” he demands. The ache between my legs intensifies. I desperately need something and I know he can give it to me, if only I say what he wants. And so what if I give in? I’m not promising him anything. I’m not even giving in. I’m allowing him to touch me, allowing him to pleasure me.
    “I want it,” I relent but I inject as much authority into those words of submission as possible.
    His fingers slide underneath the gusset of my panties. “What? And be specific, Amy, otherwise, I’ll provide my own interpretation.”
    He wants specifics? Fine. I’ll give him specifics. I push against his hand, rubbing my swollen, needy flesh along his firm fingers. “I want you inside me.”
    But it’s not enough. He wants everything.
    “With what Amy? You want my fingers? My tongue? My cock?”
    I inhale sharply at the thought of all of those things. His fingers pumping me, his head between my legs, his long, glorious cock working me into a mindless frenzy. But if I give him an inch, he’s going to take a mile.
    In my haughtiest tone, I inform him, “I’ve already had your fingers. I want more.”
    He laughs, full