Clinging To The Apocalypse

For some crazy reason, she feels like this savior of hers could be that guy; which is crazy! How can her thoughts go from thinking he was a serial rapist and murderer to wanting him to take her virginity? Something is definitely not right in her head. Amber doesn't know him other than his name and that he lives in Kansas; also that he has cared for and nursed her back to health. That knowledge does something to her and warms her like no one ever has. She couldn't decide what to think of this savior of hers. Is he good or bad?

He stands up from the bed, walks to the door and turns around to give her a view of an Oscar-worthy erection outlined by his jeans.

" I'll bring you some soup."

"What the hell just happened? He didn't respond to my memory problem and even acted a little frustrated that I didn't know anything". Maybe he is pissed that she thought of him to be the bad guy but what did he expect when he told her of his cabin in the woods, revealing that no one will find her here? She'd seen enough scary movies and know that the ending of a story with that statement in it, is never good. Maybe he is mad that she was getting turned on. He shouldn't have rubbed her ankles and wrists so sensually if he wasn't aiming for that kind of reaction. Amber is sure there are more clinical ways to untie a person that's tied to your bed. Smiling at that thought, she realizes he wants her. It was written all over his face and barely hidden behind his zipper. Her body was ready to let him have what he wanted. Dammit! Since when is it okay for your body to act the opposite of your mind? She could not explain the connection or the desperate need to have him touch her, but it was there. His hands were so warm and gentle, chasing away a deep chill set in her bones. Maybe he is not attracted to her, just the idea of sex. Maybe he has decided that she's too damaged or came with too much baggage to bother. She doesn't even know her own name for hell sakes, no wonder.

Troy had to get out of there before he feasted on her like a starving man. Good hell! He should kick his own ass. Is it not bad enough that she doesn't even know who she is or what has happened to her? She had caught him devouring her with his eyes and one hell of an imagination. Her arousal hits him like a freight train, and he almost fell on her and shoved deep. She is petite, only about 5'5", which is perfect for his tastes. She has long muscular legs and a tiny waist; her breasts are perfect. She would be so tight that it might take a while to work his way inside, but he would be gentle. She would let him take her, innocent or not, he could see it in her eyes. She probably has some hero worship going on coupled with a lot of vulnerability.

For a week he had touched every inch of that beautiful body. Not in the way he would have liked, but his imagination still touched her in a sensual way. Watching her injuries heal from bruises and cuts to the softest perfection has been torture. He needs her to get better but dread his control when she is. How long will it take before she could handle him taking her? His desires has only increased to heights unimaginable; He couldn't ever remember a craving so deep. It has been a little while since he'd enjoyed the company of a woman. However, this one small, vulnerable woman makes him feel like it's been years. Pent-up arousal has given him blue balls for a week, and he doesn't know how much longer he could go without claiming what's his.

Working his way around the kitchen, looking for the right food, proves difficult. Troy only picked up a few things from the store, planning to go back again after a few days. He didn't expect to find a half-dead woman at his doorstep, so that has changed all of his plans. He always stock canned goods, except he'd thought ravioli is a little too heavy for now. She hasn't eaten much due to the drugged sleep coma, he gave her more broth until he could make it to the store.

While heating the soup, he drank a beer hoping for a calm that he doesn't feel. He needed to go back into his room with a new resolve of keeping his hands to himself. She's confused and scared shitless; she doesn't need his raging hormones adding to her own stress.

Troy stomped his way up the stairs, hoping to alert her that he's coming in. His hormones can't take another peep show. Walking back in with a steaming bowl of chicken broth, he sat down on the side of the bed. She looks at him with big green eyes, seeming confused by her arousal or his reaction; He's not sure which. Their attraction to each other is something they will deal with later, after she's safe. Now, he just needed to get his hormones in check, so he wont have to protect her from himself. Placing the tray across her lap, she proceeds to sip the soup and watches him warily. He has no idea who has done this to her, but he's determined to protect her with his life. His caveman instincts kicks in, and he knew that he will be keeping her.

She's starving, but her stomach can't hold very much, so after taking in half the contents of her soup, she motioned to him that she's done. As Troy leans over the bed to remove the tray, she places her hand on his wrist and he freezes. His skin is hot to the touch and sends an electric jolt up her arm warming her all over.

"Troy," his blue eyes stare back at her, begging her for the next words. "I'm sorry for attacking you before, I just panicked. It is very weird for me to not know anything about myself−Not my name or even how I came to be here. Thank you. I don't know how I will ever repay you for saving my life, but whatever it is you need or want, please let me know."

Needing a connection to someone, even if it's only on a physical level, seems like a necessity for her. Feeling lost and alone, no identity, or past she remembers, makes her vulnerable and needy. Whatever this man is willing to give, she'll take. His eyes flash with understanding right before his lips press into hers. Molten fire races through her body robbing her of control over her hips as they start to undulate, moving the tray up and down. She moans into the kiss and use her hands to slowly push the tray and blankets toward the end of the bed. Sliding her legs from beneath the covers, she uses her foot to move the tray out of reach. Even baring her lower half, the cool air does nothing to soothe the aching heat between her legs. Slowly, he places his hand on her exposed thigh and proceeds to draw circles, inching his way to her molten center. As his finger glides over her clit, it sends little shock waves thrumming through her body. Panting faster and faster, she barely heard him whisper

"Cum for me."

She could not help but cry out as her body spasms on command. Stopping the movement of his lips, like he could not concentrate on two things at once, he eases his finger into her clenching center. His magic finger pumps her slowly, wringing her body for every drop seeping from her core. "I am floating on cloud nine, and I can't wait to come back here again". Her eyes rolls into the back of her head, "oh god, oh god, please don't stop," she whispers. His heavy breathing against her lips brings her back from her lust filled haze. He mumbles one curse word and then another, slides his hand from between her legs and brings them to his mouth to suck her juices from those thick magical fingers. He stood up quickly, grabs the tray, and leaves the room, slamming the door behind him. "Holy shit! What is wrong with me? Better yet, what is wrong with me"?

She's broken in more ways than one, and she just had the most explosive orgasm of her entire life, from a complete stranger. The worst part is, she couldn't wait to do it again, but next time, have him sink his massive bulge into her aching center. She rolled off the side of the bed, barely managing to stand on shaky legs. She needs the bathroom and the privacy; she felt way too exposed and vulnerable. Troy's bathroom is a luxury she didn't expect. There is a huge shower in one corner of the room that could fit six people while a Jacuzzi tub fills another. The shower has an embedded river rock design in a wave pattern at eye level with clear green, glass block tiles from floor to ceiling. The floor is covered in slightly grooved, long, gray tile that is warm to the touch, and the counters are black granite with flecks of silver. There's a sunken bed of loose river rock that follows the walls, giving the room an outdoor spa-like feel. This bathroom is serene; She could live in here. After washing her hands, she walks out into a quiet, empty room feeling deserted. Curling up on the bed with rumpled sheets, remembering what just happened here brings a smile to her lips. Exhaustion wins over euphoria, so she lays down to take a nap only to find herself dreaming of Troy, no longer her serial killer but soon to be lover.