3. Watching him Self-pleasure

Dymond

I wake up to the sound of labored breathing.

At first, I cannot recognize where I am. Panic explodes in my chest, paralyzing me from head to toe, because the feel of a bed underneath me is foreign. All these months of running and hiding had me sleeping on hard surfaces in alleys, under bridges and in homeless shelters.

Now, I am imprisoned by a strange man, and here I am sharing his bed.

“Such beautiful hair. Better than I ever imagined…” A whisper comes from behind me, like a breeze in the night.

I realize that this is what woke me up. The labored breathing, and the feel of strong fingers delicately running through my curls. My heart takes off in gallop, and I stare wide-eyed into the dim room.

What the fuck?

Why is he touching me?!

Instinctively, I want to get up and throw a heavy mirror at his insufferably handsome face, but I remain still. I am curious. I want to know why he has not left me to rot in that flooding, cold cell. Why has he allowed me to share the warmth of his bed, even after he clearly called me a street tramp, and a mere thief.

His fingers reach up to the roots of my hair, careful not to touch my scalp, as he probably believes I'm asleep. Slowly, he runs his fingers through the strands, and down to the tips, again, and again. 

Is he a creep?

His breathing grows more erratic, and I am confused as to why, until he abruptly gets up from the bed and storms away. I stay still in shock for a few moments, until low grunts begin to filter into my ears.

I cannot hold myself back any longer. Slowly, I crawl out of the bed, and follow the sounds. It takes me to a pair of thick blinds, which I thought are an extension of the glass wall, only to now realize they covered a balcony.

Slightly parting the blinds to peek through, I realize this is a penthouse. The clouds crowd around the balcony, blocking out the lights of the city below it. And on the balcony, my captor stands, completely naked.

My face flushes with sudden heat, and I slap a hand against my mouth to stifle the gasp.

One strong hand braces against the railing, with the other squeezing and jerking at… his cock. I can not see it, as his muscled back and tight ass filled my vision, but from his pleasured grunts, there isn't much left to imagine.

“What the fuck is this…” I whisper, but I am transfixed, watching him fuck his fist.

What is wrong with me? This feels wrong. I know I should stop watching, but the sight of him like this stoked sensations between my thighs that I thought are long dead. 

I am turned on. 

I thought my libido died in my ex-boyfriend’s basement, but watching this virile man in his most vulnerable state of pleasure, perishes that thought.

“Fuck.” He groans, throwing his head back. His fingers run through his dark hair, and then grabs a bottle of what I assume is lubricant. 

Does he do this often? Who has a lubricant lying around on their balcony?

His jerks resume in full force, making sounds that grow louder by the second. My entire body is trembling as I watch this, arousal coating my inner thighs. My cheeks are red hot, I am gripping the blinds tight, my breath is getting even more unstable, peaking as he barrelled towards his release.

And he climaxes, shooting semen into the wind.

I cannot handle how hot he looks cumming so hard, so I lean against the nearest wall weakly. I grab my chest, panting and pathetically trying to relieve myself of whatever spell I just fell under. 

What am I thinking? I am in trouble! I should be looking for a way to escape! The dying man in the cell already warned me!

The blinds suddenly fly open, and there he is in front of me, naked and towering. His steel eyes glint, like he is not surprised to see me at all.

“Enjoyed the show?” He arches an eyebrow.

My eyes struggle to focus on his face. His body is like a magnet, drawing every inch of attraction to itself. I am so embarrassed and stupefied, that rudeness escapes me as a last resort.

“I couldn't sleep with all that groaning. This should be a crime. I'd rather stay in a flooded cell than let a creep masturbate within such close proximity to me!” I yell at him.

“Look at who's talking about crimes.” A cruel smirk curls his lips. “You look like you enjoyed watching me fuck my fist. All flustered and blushing.”

“You disgust me.” I spit. 

He is nothing but another disgusting male dog, unable to control himself with a woman in the same bed! 

“Disgust?” He mutters, his expression darkening just a fraction. “Why don't I give you something to truly be disgusted about?”

He grabs my hand, and wraps it around his stiff cock before I can even breathe. I scream, jerking away, but his grip is too tight. He pushes me back against the wall, crowding me in with his body. My entire body is lit on fire, attuned to the feel of his cock in my palm. It's massive, curved shape, the throbbing of its veins, and how slick it feels from his previous release.

“Do you still feel disgusted?” His face is so close, staring down at me with a dark intensity that leaves me scared for my life!

He reminds me of my ex. That abusive fucker. Tears spring to my eyes, my trauma rearing its ugly head.

“Yes, you bastard! Let go of me! You're disgusting and I never want to see your damn face again!” I scream, bursting into sudden tears.

His grip loosens, and I break free, running to the door. I trip and crash, getting back up to tug and scratch at the doorknob.

“Let me out! Let me out!” I was breaking down completely, trapped in my own horrible memories.

“You're a prisoner here, Dymond. You're in no position to make demands.” His hard voice comes from behind. “I could have handed you over to the police. They would have thrown you in jail.”

“Let me out of here! Anywhere’s better than here!” My nails are bleeding. I don't stop scratching the door.

“Stop that.” He sounds irritated, storming forward to pull me away.

I whirl around, and land a dirty slap across his face. It's a miracle it even reaches his face, thanks to the outrageous height difference, but it does. He barely flinches, staring at me with a look I cannot decipher. But the coldness of it sends raw fear down my spine.

I realize I made a terrible mistake.