#tw captive

“I’m home.” You jolt at the sudden sound of his voice announcing his arrival. His voice echoing through the dark halls your shared home until it reached past the frame to your bedroom.

You sit up from the bed, where the crisp sheets enveloped your sleepy form just moments prior. Your mind not quite settling back into reality just yet as the disorientation of waking up in a dark home hits you. The golden afternoon sun now long gone.

Your mind was still recovering from blissful dream you were having. A startlingly different reality to the one you’re living now.

In your dream, the man that has held you captive from the world was a kind, gentle, loving husband. Normal in every way, in every standard there is. Someone you chose to be with. He won your heart the way most couples do, with terrible flirting, endless dates and copious amounts of affection.

The dream version of him has your heart panging painfully against your chest. He had the face of your captor, but, in your dream, he was so loveable.

Your mind continues swimming in an array of confusion.

“Darling?” He calls out. You don’t miss the panicked shake of his voice when you do not answer. Raising a knuckle to your eye as you rub the sleep away. Mind still turned to a dream you ardently wished was your reality. “Oh there you are.” He sighs with a great deal of relief. Stepping forward towards your bed, sitting right on the edge as you drop your hand away from your eyes and towards his chest, to feel the heavy thumps of panic subsiding back to its steady rhythm. “What time did you go to sleep? The house is pitch black.” He asks.

“Mh… I dunno… it was in the afternoon.” Your voice dripping with that sleepy rumble.

His hand moves to the top of your head, a throaty chuckle escaping his throat as he pulls your head in and presses a soft kiss to your forehead.

“Yeah? Must’ve been a good dream then.”

You nod, pulling the blanket down a bit more. “Yeah. You were in it.”

If at all possible, something resembling a dogs ears perks up at your proclamation. His eyes widening slightly, his back straightening out as he tries to sound as casual as possible.

“Oh yeah? What were you dreaming about?” He asks, but the way he was leaning in keenly gave away any sense of casualness.

“You were my husband,” you say, and he nods, “and we were happy.” He nods again, less enthusiastically.

You pause, unsure how to say the next part.

Because the dream was more like … a wet dream.

You and your captor, married in bliss, sharing an erotic moment, filled with passion and love. He rocked into you like you gently with immense care, whilst you chased your high with him beneath you. Your hands pressed upon his chest, and his hands gripping your hips. You had leant down, just mere inches from his lips when you were awoken abruptly.

You want to revisit that moment.

Feel that feeling.

You look up at his eyes, when you made a decision.

You sat up completely, hands greedily reaching out to cradle his neck and jaw as you pulled him forward, his lips crashing upon your own as you kissed him with a heat of passion you never expected to.

You want that reality.

You want it so bad. The experience the same scene in real life.

Maybe, for just a moment in time, you could live that reality. Even if it’s make believe. You’ll indulge yourself, just this once.

You break the kiss first, just long enough to move into his lap, perching yourself onto his thighs. Watching his hands absently guide to there. His eyes still closed, as if afraid to open them and see his dream vanishing right before his eyes.

“I could tell you but I’d rather just show you.” You whisper, leaning back in and capturing his lips as your grind down into his lap.

He releases an ungodly moan, laced with want and yearning and praise.

Gripping the back of your thighs, he rolls you both over, your back planted against the mattress once again as his hands blindly work to remove the fabric barricading him from your heavenly core.

As soon as he manages to shuck your panties off, your thighs split open, desperately inviting him in to explore. His fingers grazing the inner thigh until he skims your folds and shutters at his wet you already feel. His fingers moving to slide between your crease, coaxing your slick around before submerging a finger into your tight hole.

“You’re…” he whispers, peppering a trail of kisses down your jaw. “So wet…” he announces, licking a stripe up your neck before sucking on a sensitive nerve that has you whining out. “God— you’re so beautiful,” he praises, his fingers now picking up speed, pumping in and out. “So good to me— you’re a fucking goddess— so perfect, you deserve to be fucking worshipped.” you curl into him, your hips bucking up as your climax begins to reach. “I gotta have you,” he exclaims, pulling his fingers out quickly, fumbling for his belt and zipper with a rush of urgency. “Gotta be inside,” your legs snap shut at his sudden departure.

You don’t answer. Just staring up at him, wanting to maintain the pace of passion and softness before he descends into a carnal animal that bullies his cock into you like he does every other time.

He just looks down at you with utter desperation. Not a care in the world if you changed your mind. You’ve sparked hunger in a starving man and he’ll do whatever it takes to get a taste of the forbidden fruit.

Instead you do something far more erotic.

You spread your knees as wide as you could manage, laying yourself completely exposed. A quiet invitation.

“I fucking love you.” He growls, crawling back on top of you, jerking slowly to alleviate the throbbing of his painful erection.

“Slow.” You whisper your condition, your hand flying down to grasp him and line him up. You’re asking a lot from him. To slowly sink into your core at a snails pace and you’re being so wet and inviting.

But regardless, he heeds your commands. Sinking one painful inch after another and right when there’s nothing left to bury in you. You let out the softest, breathiest sigh of relief which does nothing but sends shockwaves of want down his spine, his brain screaming for him to pummel you into the bed. But the satisfied look of fullness on your face keeps him anchored to this moment.

Your hands release its grip on the sheets, which you had not even noticed you were doing. Hands falling back into its place on the cusp of his jaw. “Just like that.” You praise, eyes rolling shut as your body rolls a grinding wave. “Rock into me slowly yeah?”

He whimpers, feeling torn between his need to fuck you senseless and his need to praise your body.

Somehow he manages to pull back ever so slightly before sinking back in. The slow and intentional movements sending utter shockwave through your core causing you to release a long quiet moan.

And he swears he could cum to your sounds alone.

To hear his darling make such sinful sounds from the softest of touches.

But he cannot finish so early.

Who knows if you’ll ever be so pliant again.

He needs to indulge in this fantasy for as long as humanly possible.

So he does just that. Rocking slowly into your soppy core as you moan and meet his movements back with a long drawn out grind.

“Kiss me?” You ask, looking at him through your lashes and he swears his heart gave out right then and there.

He leans down, not daring to make you wait another second as he kisses with a soft firmness until your kisses grow more feverish, your moans muffled between your connected mouths until your head drops away.

Your body craning away from his, your back arching as your grind thrusts meeting his own grows more erratic.

“Yeah—yeah—just like that!” You praise, eyes screwing shut as waves of pleasure hits you like a ton of bricks. Your pussy gripping down harshly until your core flutters in satisfaction of your release.

You barely notice the ungodly groan echoing through your ear as his shuttering body drops ontop of you like dead weight. The oddly comforting feeling of his weight pressing on top of you.

He doesn’t speak.

Too fucked out to comprehend life, let alone words.

And you couldn’t be more satisfied.

Song: If I’m- Sea Oleena