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  • Intrusion Ch. 02

Intrusion Ch. 02

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(A bunch of you asked for me to continue my "Intrusion" story, so here it is. It was originally supposed to be a one-hit-wonder, but it became more popular that I was expecting it to be, so I'll make an attempt at turning it into a series. This is a genre I'm not used to writing in, so I apologize if it's not the greatest series ever written in this category. But for now, I hope you'll enjoy this continuation.)

*****

Miranda stirred her soda absentmindedly, spinning the straw lazily between her fingers. She was only vaguely aware of the hustle and bustle of the café around her. Occasionally, her ears would pick up a snippet of conversation or the sharp clank of dishes being stacked, her eyes catching a quick glimpse of a waitress rushing by. But none of those sights or sounds interested her subconscious. No, her brain would far rather focus on something much more entertaining: memories. Memories of her activities the last few weeks. Memories of her new 'friend' who kept sneaking into her apartment. Memories of the way he'd held her and coerced her and fucked her into submission...

"Hey, gentle with me this time, okay? That belt of yours left some pretty weird bruises for me to explain."

His eyes gleamed at her as he laced his fingers into her hair. Miranda leaned forward and planted a gentle kiss on the tip of his cock before giving it another quick brush with her tongue. She heard his sharp inward breath, could almost feel his stomach tensing beneath his thick sweater. She smiled slightly to herself. After all the control he'd exerted over her, all the times he'd forced her into submission and nearly scared her to death, she finally held a tiny amount of sway over him.

She gave his cock another long, slow lick. Somewhere in the back of her mind, a tiny voice reminded her that this wasn't in any way normal or acceptable behavior. It was screaming at her to fight against him, to call the cops, to do anything to get away from him. She knew this wasn't how most people played out their sexual fantasies: breaking into random apartments and forcing strangers into their twisted games. Most women faced with this scenario wouldn't be so complicit in his demands.

But another voice also echoed in her mind, this one far louder than the first. The second voice reminded her of two things: the first, that no matter how playful and gentle he may seem, this man was still armed with a blade, twice her size, and had a far more extensive skill set than she did. The second, that despite his intimidating size and skill set, this man hadn't done anything to physically harm her yet. Beyond the first few bruises (and scaring her half to death), he'd been patient and calm around her, even when she'd fought and struggled against him. He was dangerous, but not immediately so. Mad as it may seem, following the second voice seemed like her best option.

She took the tip into her mouth, swirling her tongue around it a few times before slowly moving lower, taking his cock into her mouth one inch at a time. She was gentle, her pace steady and measured. She'd learned from their last encounter that exerting control over her was paramount to him. The more she complied, the less threatening he made himself. She was playing a dangerous game with that bet. For all she knew, his first few acts of kindness and patience could have all been a ruse to gain her compliance, and he'd shift into a grotesquely sadistic monster once he had her totally submissive to him. For now, though, working with him seemed a far better bet than working against him.

She'd managed to fit most of his cock into her mouth – nothing extreme like deep-throating, but enough to easily satisfy him. She swirled her tongue around his length, teasing him. He stroked her hair in return, a sign of his appreciation. Before she could continue her oral seduction, his fingers twisted tighter into her hair, holding her head steady. He slowly bucked his hips forward, driving his cock deeper into her mouth before pulling back. His hands remained knotted in her hair, immobilizing her while he pleasured himself. He now controlled the pace and depth of her blowjob, wrenching control away from her and re-establishing himself as the dominant player in this game.

He fucked her mouth slowly, almost gently, seemingly savoring the heat and feel of her mouth. Miranda held herself still, letting him resume control. The more she went along with his plan, the easier he'd be on her later. Despite his current easy-going nature, he could easily turn against her. That knife was still hooked to his belt loop. One wrong move or too much resistance and he might reintroduce her to his old friend. For the moment, though, she was perfectly content to let him work against her mouth. As much as she may balk at the idea, his dominance and control were oddly arousing. She'd never been ordered around and tied to her bed before (granted, she'd never had a stranger break into her apartment and hold her at knifepoint, either), but something about his confidence and forcefulness excited her. Brushing aside her less-than-refined partner's domineering nature, Miranda found herself beginning to enjoy his silent authority. He was both intimidating and sexy, crazy as it may sound.

She felt his hands tighten in her hair, heard his breathing become shallower and more rapid. He groaned and pulled away from her suddenly, drawing her out of her mental musings. His cock slipped from her mouth, leaving Miranda feeling strangely vacant. He leaned forward again, angling his hips so his cock pointed away from her mouth. Instead, the tip of her cock brushed against her cheek, slick and warm against her skin. She heard his ragged breathing, could almost feel him trying to force his orgasm down. She held herself still, now puzzled rather than excited. He'd had her exactly where he'd wanted her, naked and willing on her bed, and he'd been more than happy to use her body as he pleased. And yet, he'd pulled himself away from certain pleasure and was fighting every instinct to finish the job. God, that must be torture for him.

He stroked her hair again, his cock just beginning to go flaccid against her cheek. He sighed heavily, finally coming down from his high. Miranda stared at the tangle of sheets below her, dumbfounded that he would deny himself an orgasm now when he'd taken them so willingly before. He straightened, his cock slipping away from her cheek. She risked a glance upwards, curious about his self-deprivation. She still couldn't see his face beneath his damned black ski mask, but she could see his eyes. They were alight with excitement, well satisfied with her compliance. He untangled one of his hands from her hair and gently stroked her cheek with his leather-clad fingers.

Good girl. Good, good girl.

He pulled his hand away, his eyes shifting from satisfied to mischievous. He took a small step back and walked around to the other side of the bed. Miranda watched him over her shoulder, curious as to what he had planned next. Her captor sat down on the opposite side of her bed, his thigh just a few inches away from her feet. He reached out and slipped one arm under her hips, his other hand resting gently on the curve of her ass. Slowly, gently, he pulled her hips backwards and around, forcing Miranda to awkwardly shuffle backwards along the bedding until she was kneeling over his thighs.

He slid his gloved hand up her ass and along the length of her spine, the heat from his hand wonderful against her skin. Once he reached her shoulders, he pressed down gently, forcing her first onto her elbows, the all the way down onto the sheets. He did the same action with her hips, forcing her down until she was lying across his lap. One gloved hand slipped between her legs, spreading them apart slightly. Miranda whimpered softly and instinctively grabbed at the piles of sheets, nervousness now overtaking her previous sense of confidence and arousal.

His warm, gloved hand returned to her ass, stroking and massaging her flesh with his fingers. As much as she disliked his constant breaching of her security and his twisted sexual games, she loved the feeling of those warm leather gloves against her skin. There was something inherently sexy about the smooth, soft texture of the leather. She suspected that was why he'd never opted to change any part of his uniform this time around. She enjoyed this, and he had no issues using her weakness against her. His hand continued to caress her skin, making her whine softly in appreciation. Naively, she began to settle into her new position, taking the time to savor his attention.

A sharp smack on her left ass cheek brought snapped her out of her comfortable musings. It wasn't a painful blow, but it certainly stung enough to get her attention. She whipped her head around, staring at him over her shoulder. His grey eyes were locked on hers, bright and playful and overflowing with confidence. Another smack on her right cheek had her squirming against him, but, as always, he'd been one step ahead of her. His free arm was braced across the small of her back, pinning her in place. A small bubble of dread started to well up in her stomach. She'd dropped her guard, gotten too comfortable around him, and now she was going to pay for it.

He adjusted himself beneath her, finding a more comfortable position to torture her in. He moved his arm a bit, keeping her pinned below as that hand moved to cup her ass cheek. His other hand slid down between her thighs and pressed gently against her sex. The contact made her twitch involuntarily, and she heard him laugh softly at her vulnerability. She whimpered again, painfully aware of just how open and easily accessible she'd made herself.

Great job, stupid. Just fantastic.

He smacked her cheeks again, still gentle enough not to be painful but enough to burn her skin. His free hand pressed firmly against her sex, stroking the length of her slit. She moaned softly, the sensation just pleasant enough to ease her nerves. Two more sharp slaps across her ass were followed by another stroke of his fingers along her slit, and Miranda found herself easing back into the soft bedding. This was no punishment or sadistic game; this was his own confusing brand of seduction. The bubble of dread had burst, replaced with an oddly familiar sense of comfort and arousal. Her body had started responding to his teasing, her slit slowly growing wetter every time he stroked her. She squirmed under his arms slightly, finding a more comfortable position for him to tease her.

Satisfied with her acquiescence, her captor started to build a pattern. He would smack her ass twice, once on each cheek, then tease her pussy with his fingers. It was a devastatingly successful pattern, one that he'd no doubt practiced and perfected over the years. The slaps on her ass were just strong enough to be felt, the sting slowly melting into a wonderfully warm burn across her skin. The gloved fingers the skimmed her pussy were equally gentle, drawing out one lustful moan after another as he slowly worked her into submission. God, this man was good. The next two smacks across her ass had her curling her fingers into the sheets. His fingers slid along the length of her now dripping pussy once more before slowly sinking into her.

Oh, holy hell.

Miranda squeezed her eyes shut and bit her lip. Damn it, just like every other trick and surprise he'd pulled on her, this man's technique was perfect. He moved slowly but firmly, gently pumping his fingers in and out of her sex a few times before pulling them out completely. She whined, her body practically screaming for him to continue. He laughed again and resumed his pattern, smacking her ass and teasing her sensitive pussy. Miranda buried her face into the sheets, savoring the heat from his hand and the fullness of his fingers. She almost felt silly being afraid of him earlier; clearly, in this situation, the man was no threat. The knife and belt were a distant memory now, replaced by the smooth stroking of his fingers and warmth of his gloved palm. This. Was. Good

"Jesus fucking Christ," she mumbled into the sheets.

She relaxed against him, willingly allowing him free reign over her body. He continued his pattern of teasing, seeming to savor her pleasure as much as she savored his touch. He would sink his fingers into her, drawing out a soft purr from her throat, which made him force his fingers even deeper inside her sex. Deep in her belly, Miranda could feel her orgasm building, her toes curling and her breath hitching in anticipation. She squeezed her eyes shut, moaning into the sheets and he gave her another duo of smacks across her ass cheeks before sinking his gloved fingers back into her-

"Hey! Miranda! Hey!"

Miranda was jerked back to attention, snapping her head up and straightening her spine instinctively. Her eyes were wide, her breathed shaky and uneven, heart pounding in her chest. It took several seconds for her brain to adjust from memory into reality, to comprehend the alien sounds of cutlery on dishes and incoherent mumbling. She was in the café, not her bedroom. Out in public, surrounded by masses of strangers, a world away from her small apartment and the enigmatic masked man who kept sneaking in.

Swallowing sharply, she focused her attention on the voice that had called her name. Laurie sat across from her, an equally startled expression on her face. Miranda blushed slightly, embarrassed by her momentary lapse in reality. She cleared her throat and shot her friend an overly enthusiastic smile, setting her shoulders straight and smoothing out her shirt. Laurie's alarmed expression softened, though her deep brown eyes remained concerned. Her overcorrections weren't very convincing.

"Girl, what is up with you today?"

Miranda stared at her for a moment, shaking her head slightly, her stupid smile still plastered on her face. "Nothing."

Laurie shot her a pointed look, brushing a blonde lock of hair out of her face. "Randa, seriously. What's gotten into you?"

Miranda shrugged her shoulders, taking a quick sip from her glass. "Nothing. I'm fine."

Laurie gave a sharp, sarcastic snort. "Bull to the shit you're fine. You've been jumpier than a jackrabbit all day."

She sighed. "Laurie-"

"I'm serious. You've been swinging back and forth like a pendulum since I picked you up." Laurie stared at her intensely, her eyes both serious and concerned. "You'll get really quite and pensive, like you're super focused on something. Then you'll snap out of it, and you'll be looking around at everyone like you're being followed. It's really weird."

Miranda sat silent for a moment, hesitant to reply. More blood pooled in her cheeks, her sudden embarrassment making her sink deeper into her seat. Damn it. Her mind had been constantly swinging back and forth between her memories and reality all day. Of course it was making her jumpy; she was reliving her last encounter with her masked intruder over and over again. She chewed her lip nervously, irritated that she'd been so focused on that man. Even when she was miles away from her home, her day occupied with something other than forceful sex, he still managed to invade her life.

She squirmed in her seat again, trying to force away the image of his shining grey eyes and deliciously soft leather gloves. As she shifted, she felt a sudden wetness fill her panties, and he stiffened in shock. Her momentary flashback hadn't just fucked with her head; it had drawn a response from her body, too. She could feel her own arousal pooling between her thighs, her body traitorously turned on by the memory of their last encounter. She quickly re-crossed her legs, trying her best to quell any residual arousal from her mind. She quietly prayed that no one in the café had the ability to read minds.

You've got to be fucking joking.

"Seriously, Miranda. What's wrong? I've never seen you like this, even on a bad day." Laurie stirred her own drink, staring at her friend with honest concern.

Oh, girl. This is something you need to stay far away from.

She could never tell Laurie. She could never tell anyone. How could she possibly explain her situation without being doubted or scrutinized? A masked man breaking into her apartment, threatens her at knifepoint, then sexually dominates her. That's something most women have nightmares or PTSD flashbacks about. And yet here she was, smiling and happy and (holy fuck) even fantasizing about the damn man. If she did try to explain her situation, people would look at her like she was crazy, or call her a liar. They might even call the cops and have them open a case on her assaults. No, she couldn't tell anyone, least of all Laurie.

Think. Think of something, anything.

Miranda sighed and slumped her shoulders a bit, defeated. "Just tired from work, I guess."

Laurie cocked her head, looking at her suspiciously. "Work? What the hell could possibly be going on at work that's got you so twisted?"

Miranda grabbed at the first straw within reach. Thankfully, it was a straw that had a fairly good amount of truth woven through it. "My yearly evaluation is coming up next month. I'm one of the few in the running for a promotion, so I'm probably just exhausting myself from trying to look perfect and prove that I'm indispensable."

Laurie let out a sharp laugh and smiled, seemingly satisfied with her answer. "Gah, been there, done that. Looking flawless for the higher-ups is a hell within itself." She took a quick sip from her glass. "So, who's your competition."

Change of subject. Thank god.

"Sam Sommers." Miranda answered happily, relieved that the conversation had shifted away from her recent behavior. God forbid Laurie ever find out about her mystery guest and their late-night escapades.

Laurie nodded slightly. "I think you've mentioned Sam once or twice. Nice guy?"

Miranda nodded emphatically. "Absolutely, nothing like that idiot Darren. Sam works as hard and as much as I do. He's a sweetheart."

Laurie smiled. "Good. How long has he been with the company?"

"A few months less than I have, but he's one of the great ones. Pulls his own weight, good team player, actually knows his shit. If I have to compete for my promotion, I don't mind it being against Sam. He'd deserve that raise as much as I do."

Laurie's nodded again, her smile shifting from content to mischievous. "He sounds like a great guy all-around. Maybe the two of you could get together for some extra 'late night' work?"

Miranda nearly spit out her drink. She shook her head wildly and waved her hand at her friend. "Hell no! First off, he's married with two girls. Second, he's almost forty. Third, I'm not going to get myself wrapped up in one of those stupid 'work spouse' fiascos. Not a chance!"

Laurie 's smile dropped a bit, but remained intact. "Ah, well. I tried."

Miranda snorted. "I will never allow you to play matchmaker if that's your master plan to hook me up with a guy."

Laurie scrunched up her face in faux indignation. "Hey, at least I'm trying! You haven't had a guy in months! It's the least I could do to break you out of that damn-"

"ORDER UP FOR MIRANDA!"

Miranda took another quick sip from her glass, motioning for her friend to wait. "I'll grab it."

She slid out of the booth and started towards the counter, weaving her way in and out of the maze of tables, trying her best to stay out of the way of the bussers and waitresses. She stopped at the gleaming metal counter, scanning the array of plastic food trays for her meal. The male cashier, preoccupied with recounting his till, looked up and smiled at her.

For an instant, Miranda thought her luck in the romance department might change. He was a damn fine specimen of a man. Tall, with short but messy dark brown hair and Colgate-white smile that could light up an entire city. His face was the picture of masculinity: square jaw, high cheekbones, strong nose, a sexily full mouth. He hadn't shaved in a few days, and the extra growth made him look especially rugged. She could see, almost trace the thick, smooth muscles of his biceps and chest under his black polo. Something in her belly twitched. It had been a long time since she'd been this instantly attracted to a guy. Almost as long as it had been since she'd been up for a promotion. Maybe the tides were starting to turn in her favor. She smiled back at him, her eyes focusing on the shiny brass nametag pinned to his shirt.

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