Chapter Three: Carol's POV

I woke up slowly, the soft sheets still warm beneath me.

At first, I forgot where I was. Then what happened last night hit me.

I had sex with a total stranger. I bit my lips, thinking about it, the way he touched me like I was everything he needed. I turned over, reaching instinctively for the warmth beside me but he was gone.

The space beside me was empty. There was no note. No goodbye. Nothing.

I sat up, pulling the sheet around me, blinking back the dull ache in my chest. Why did I care? It was one night. A mistake, maybe. A distraction.

Still, a small part of me hoped he would’ve stayed.

I showered, dressed quickly, and packed my things. I needed to get out of the hotel. Go anywhere but here.

The air outside was crisp, biting against my skin as I stepped onto the street. My thoughts were messy, my emotions worse.

That’s when the black car pulled up beside me.

The door opened fast. I barely had time to scream before someone grabbed me from behind, strong arms pinning mine. A cloth pressed against my mouth, and the world tilted.

Everything went black.

…

When I woke, I was lying on something soft. A couch. My head was aching, and my wrists were tied in front of me with something soft like a cloth.

I blinked up at the light above, then I heard his voice.

“Nice to see you awake, sweetheart.”

I froze and turned slowly to meet Antonio.

He leaned against the doorframe, with his arms crossed, and his eyes dark with something I couldn’t name.

“You…” I whispered, my voice hoarse. “You kidnapped me?”

He shrugged. “You left.”

“You cheated on me!” I screamed. “What the hell is wrong with you?!”

“You walked away,” he said, pushing off the wall and coming closer. “And that’s not something you get to do. Not from me.”

I struggled to sit up, heart pounding. “Let me go.”

“No.”

“You can’t keep me here!”

“I already am.”

His eyes roamed over my body, and I suddenly realized the top buttons of my blouse were undone. My legs were bare.

“You’re insane,” I spat.

He crouched in front of me, gripping my chin. “Maybe. But you’re still mine.”

“I hate you.”

“You say that now,” he whispered. “But your body says something else.”

He leaned in, lips brushing against my cheek.

I tried to turn away, but he caught my wrists, pulling me to my feet.

“You want to leave?” he asked, voice low. “Prove it.”

“I don’t have to prove anything to you.”

His hand moved to my waist, pulling me closer. “No. But I want to see how long you can pretend.”

I tried to pull away, but he pushed me gently against the wall. Not rough, but firm.

His mouth brushed my neck. Just a whisper of a touch.

I gasped, shivering.

“Still hate me?” he whispered.

I didn’t answer.

He kissed the curve of my neck, slow and soft. His fingers brushed the inside of my thigh.

I clenched my legs, but he just smiled against my skin.

“You used to love it when I touched you like this,” he murmured. “Still do.”

“I don’t,” I whispered.

He slid a hand beneath my skirt, fingers gliding up the inside of my thigh. I sucked in a breath.

“Carol,” he said softly, “I’m going to remind you what your body wants. What it craves.”

His fingers reached the edge of my panties. He didn’t push, he just traced the outline, teasing the wetness already there.

“Already soaked,” he whispered. “And I haven’t even started.”

He dropped to his knees in front of me, his hands gripping my thighs.

I tried to stop him. I really did.

But the second his mouth pressed to the thin fabric of my panties, all resistance melted.

He kissed me there slowly, creating warm pressure that made my knees shake.

Then he pulled my panties down, dragging them slowly along my legs.

I stood trembling, breathless.

He looked up at me once, blue eyes locked to mine, then leaned forward and licked me slow, deliberate.

“Oh my Goodness,” I moaned, pressing my back against the wall.

He pushed my legs apart gently and settled between them like he belonged there.

And then his tongue met my bare skin.

The first lick made my knees tremble. He licked up my slit slowly, teasingly, from bottom to top, then paused to suck gently on my clit.

“Oh—Goodness…”

His hands gripped my thighs, holding me in place as his tongue began a slow, rhythmic motion. He circled my clit, soft and steady, then flattened his tongue and dragged it down, slipping it just barely inside before pulling back and flicking again.

My hips moved on their own.

I moaned. Loud. Uncontrolled.

“You always made the prettiest sounds,” he murmured, breath hot against me.

He sucked again, harder this time, then drew a moan from deep in my chest as his tongue began moving faster.

Every movement was deliberate. Controlled. Designed to make me beg.

And it was working.

My back hit the wall behind me, legs trembling. I was too far gone.

He held me tighter, diving deeper, licking, sucking, flicking his tongue in ways that made my head spin. I could feel the pressure building low in my stomach, heat flooding through me.

Then he stopped.

I let out a shaky breath, blinking down at him in confusion.

He didn’t move far. Just kissed the inside of my thigh again, slowly moving higher, closer.

“Not yet,” he whispered. “I want to draw it out. Make it last.”

My hands clenched at my sides. “Why are you doing this?” I managed.

“Because you’re mine,” he said, voice deep. “And I want to remind you what that means.”

He leaned in again, tongue returning to my clit. But this time it was slower. Deeper. He licked me like he was savoring every drop.

Then, without warning, he slipped one finger inside me.

I cried out, grabbing the edge of the wall.

“Still tight,” he muttered, his breath warm on my skin. “Still perfect.”

He moved the finger in and out slowly, curling it just right.

Then a second finger joined.

“Antonio, oh Goodness—”

His mouth never stopped moving.

The mix of his tongue on my clit and his fingers inside me was too much.

I felt myself slipping, every nerve, every muscle tightening.

He felt it too.

“You’re close,” he said. “Aren’t you?”

“Y-yes…”

He pushed deeper, curling his fingers harder, licking faster.

My body bucked. My legs threatened to collapse.

And then I came.

It crashed over me like a wave, my vision blurring as my body shook violently.

My moans filled the room, long and loud, as pleasure flooded through me.

But he didn’t stop.

Even as I trembled, even as my body spasmed, his fingers kept moving, his tongue kept circling.

I cried out again, this time louder, more desperate.

“Too much—Antonio—please—”

He looked up, lips glistening, a dark smile on his face.

“You’re not done yet,” he whispered. “I want to see you fall apart again.”

He pulled me down with him, guiding me onto the floor where he laid me out on the thick rug. My legs spread on either side of his shoulders.

And then he went back to work.

This time it was slower and more intimate.

His fingers thrust deep, slow and steady. His tongue lapped gently at my clit, occasionally pausing to kiss or suck.

Every time I caught my breath, he stole it again.

I looked down at him, at the way his eyes stayed on me, the hunger in them. The worship.

He didn’t just want to make me feel good.

He wanted to break me.

And I let him.

My second orgasm crept up slower, but it was stronger.

I was already sensitive, already weak—but he kept pushing me to the edge until I couldn’t hold back.

I shattered again, back arching off the floor, mouth open in a silent scream.

He finally pulled away, his face flushed, his lips wet.

I lay there, panting, shaking, ruined.

Antonio leaned over me, brushing his fingers down my cheek.

“See what I can still do to you?”

Tears filled my eyes, not just from the pleasure, but from everything.

I hated him but I wanted him and I didn’t know which was worse.

He leaned down, kissed my temple, and whispered, “I won’t let you go, Carol. Ever again.”

I couldn’t speak. I just closed my eyes, pretending I was someone else. I hated him but right now, I hated myself more for wanting him again.