Kane laid Lyra naked and blindfolded on his bed. He forced his hands against her shoulders, commanding her to remain still as he undressed. A strange delight pulsed through Lyra’s belly as she heard the scabbard drop to the floor. She thought of him wielding the machete as he chased her, and a new passion entranced her. Her moan delighted Kane’s ears; with his hands, he parted her legs and climbed in between them. His hands fumbled behind her; Lyra waited. Her own wrists were quickly gripped, raised and tied with the rope that he had previously bound her with. She shivered and felt herself dampen in response to his dominance.
The monster slid down her body, biting her flesh as he did, until his mouth touched between her legs. Lyra had not expected this; her cheeks reddened and flushed with heat as he bit at her and used his tongue to flick at her. His hands forced her thighs further apart and his fingers drove higher until they met her soaking opening. Two thick fingers pressed against her and he gently eased them in. Lyra’s body stiffened in response, pressing against his fingers. Her shielded eyes flickered and rolled back, and her toes dug into the mattress. She had not anticipated this; it certainly formed no part of any escape plan.
He sucked at her sensitivity, drawing it cruelly between his teeth. Lyra sighed deeply, falling into a lusty trance. The waves were building in her stomach and she gulped, trying desperately to cling on to reality. Kane gently eased his mouth away from her and ran it along her stomach to her breasts. He shifted slightly and pulled his fingers away, placing his firmness against her opening. She had felt him, and his sex was as formidable as he was.
He teased her at first, stroking her with the tip. Lyra moaned great shivers of pleasure. His mouth caressed her breasts and then her neck. She could feel herself shaking under his commanding form. Kane’s own need had been driving him since he had met her, waking an angry, lust-filled beast. He could wait no longer to claim his woman. She was his woman, whether she liked it or not, and he would prove it to her. With one stealthy movement, he forced the whole of himself inside of her.
Lyra gasped; only her dampness saved her from the vastness of him. She bucked against him but was soon subdued as his mouth met hers. Kane used slow strides at first, pulling himself far enough to meet her sweet spot. Lyra’s legs wrapped about him and moved with him, driving him as deeply as possible inside of her. The waves multiplied with each thrust, and Kane felt his own need pressing with a malevolent urgency.
His tongue twisted about hers; he thought of her fear of him, gasping for breath as he raised her from the floor with his hands about her throat, but most of all, he thought of her begging him to save her. Save her from his own ferocity. His hand caressed her neck as he remembered; his drive doubled as he did. Lyra noticed as his hands splayed and his fingers wrapped about her throat, but he did not press, not this time. He would claim her in another way. He pushed his body against her, rubbing her sweetness passionately. She raised her hips to meet every thrust. The waves boiled within her as she groaned into his mouth. His ardour throbbed inside her and her body instantly responded, pulsing in an electric storm. Her wave peaked and she cried out whilst driving the waves hard down on him. Her cry was delicious, and Kane met his own peak, releasing years of pent-up need inside of her.
Lyra sank into the mattress; her body warmed in the afterglow of their passion. No one had made her feel like that ever. Her lips swelled and tingled with the thought of him. Her hands remained bound as Kane dressed and replaced his mask; her futile escape attempt that morning had not gone unnoticed. He dimmed the cabin lights as the sky darkened outside and removed her blindfold. Lyra was still shivering; her belly warmed as he touched her to remove the blindfold. She shifted her gaze from him shyly.
Kane stared at the woman he had taken and removed his machete from its scabbard with a clink. He stroked the blade across her body and watched as her doe eyes widened. Lyra’s fear had morphed into something more profound; it tantalised her. She gasped as the cold steel pressed against her naked, helpless body; her eyes fluttered in response. Something within her was changing; it was as if his touch had woken her from a long sleep. Kane dragged the blade along her skin to her throat and pressed the steel against her skin. Lyra’s eyelids drooped and her lashes overshadowed her face. She gulped slightly but remained motionless.
She cast her eyes over the blade, the same blade that had killed not a few hours ago. Kane pressed it further into her skin, ensuring that he did not mark her neck. The blade then lowered to her heart and pressed until blood was drawn. Lyra winced at the pain with a mixture of submissive pleasure and a burning sting. Kane tilted his head and raised his free hand as if to tell her to remain still. He drew the blade along her skin; Lyra shuddered. The blade dragged downwards, cutting into her. Lyra’s teeth bit at her bottom lip as she tried not to cry out. Kane twisted the hilt of the blade and flicked it towards her cleavage. The crimson hue of blood drowned out the shape of the wound. Kane returned his machete to his scabbard and disinfected her aching wound. Lyra’s eyes welled up with tears as the liquid burned into her, but she did not cry out. He had forbidden that.
At length, Kane led Lyra, with her hands still tied, to the bathroom to freshen up. He afforded her the privacy that she had previously requested and marched her back to the bed. He had not finished with her, not by a long way; he had waited so long to feed his inner demons that the need was soon growing within him again. There were still droplets of blood seeping from the fresh wound, and Kane doused the burning with a cool, damp cloth. Lyra looked down at the wound to see that he had carved the letter ‘J’ across her heart. He had branded her to show her that she belonged to him. Kane forced her back onto the bed; she complied without hesitation as the warm glow continued to fill her belly.
Through the mask, his eyes locked on hers and she held his gaze. He towered over her, taking in the pink tone of her skin and the hardness of her breasts. Her scent was so strong now; he had filled her, and he would fill her again. Lyra raised her hands to the headboard, expecting him to bind her tied wrists back up. He did not respond. He stood motionless, watching her; his body hardened as he took in every curve. His branding had only added to her beauty and her exquisite surrender.
After some thought, Kane flicked his hand, motioning for her to stand, and he perched himself on the bed in front of her, pulling her body into his face. Lyra quivered at his touch; his hands clasped her hips and, using his mighty strength, he drove her to her knees. His hand slid under her chin and he used his thumb to force her to look up at him. With the other hand, he unbuckled his tool belt and opened his boiler suit. His thumb shifted behind her head and he tipped her head forward, allowing her to take him in her mouth.
Obediently, Lyra responded, flicking her tongue over the tip before drawing him in. Kane took a deep breath and sighed as she allowed the giant member to fill her mouth. He pressed against the back of her throat. She lifted her bound hands to his shaft and gripped tightly, stroking as she sucked in as much as she could. Kane tipped his masked face back; the sensation was like nothing he had ever experienced. It quelled his rage, knowing that she was his willing victim. Lyra drove her mouth down against him, meeting her own hands with her lips. Kane’s giant hands grasped at her head and he twisted her hair tightly as she drove his excitement on.
The machete hung in its scabbard close to her face; her eyes shifted to it and it reminded her of how sinister the man was, sinister but so deliriously desirable. She took him in as deeply as she could, causing Kane to shake. His hand reached for the hilt of his machete and he drew it. His thumb slipped from her neck back to her chin and she released him from her mouth as he signalled for her to return to her place on his bed. Lyra conformed, offering him her complete trust. Kane parted her legs and slid the hilt up between them until it pressed against her.
Lyra flushed as the hilt of the machete penetrated her. Kane stretched his thumb to her sensitive spot and caressed her whilst carefully moving the weapon inside her. Her lips parted in response and she melted into the bed, with her bound wrists lying casually above her head. Her hips responded to the thrusts, rising to allow Kane access. His caress strengthened as he bent his thumb into her sweet spot, increasing the pressure of his touch gradually. Electric pulses filled Lyra’s belly; she moaned with pleasure until he withdrew the hilt and dropped it to the floor.
Kane turned and knelt on the bed between Lyra’s spread legs. He clasped her knees and drew her hips upwards, forcing her legs to clench about his own hips, and he thrust himself straight into her with one urgent movement. His girth stretched her already aching sex and he grasped her hips, pulling her tightly onto him. Lyra’s sensitivity burned with a new ferocity as she watched him, her masked abductor, drive into her. His eyes locked on hers and he drove against her with a new ardour; pure animalistic lust.
This was no longer the man that held her so ferociously; this was the monster that had choked her. Lyra tensed momentarily, but he drove deeper into her, forcing himself against her sweet spot as he did. She inhaled with a rasp and fell into a pleasurable stupor as the need welled inside her. Desperate moans flowed from her mouth as his stride intensified. His hardness shuddered desperately within her until he could bear it no more. Kane dropped his body onto hers and continued to force himself into her; his mask hovered over her face and their eyes remained locked together.
Lyra drew her bound hands over his head and embraced his neck, willing him to continue. Kane could see the desire in her heavy doe eyes; her lips tingled and swelled, and her feet pushed against his back. At that moment, she wanted him and nothing else mattered; the desperate need inside her overwhelmed all reason. She was simply a slave to temptation and to the masterful and powerful being that took her so delightfully. The waves scorched inside of her and, with each motion, she found herself begging for more.
‘Please, Kane,’ she moaned. Her words were exquisite and the pressure between Kane’s legs far too much to bear; the aching in Lyra’s sex matched his. He could feel the tension in her as her arms tightened about his neck. Lyra raised her head and pressed her mouth against Kane’s mask, both reaching the crest of their need. Kane pulsed inside her and instantly she peaked painfully as he released his own lust deep inside of her.
