Voyeur Ch. 02

"Oh, yes, I have some things to say," Ben muttered, stroking the firm curves.

"Ben!" Rachel gasped, straining to crawl off him, but his hand was firm on her hip. It was the first time she said his name out loud, and he paused. She almost sensed he'd paused to register it.

"Yes, Rachel?" he finally cooed, still stroking her ass in a gentle way that was somehow sinister.

"Why...I...why...?" Rachel cringed, with no idea how to form the sentence.

"Are you trying to ask why I've put you over my knee?" he said helpfully, with a particularly sharp pinch to her behind.

Unable to see his face, Rachel nodded helplessly.

"Remember when we first met? When you agreed to meet me at the food court?"

Rachel's eyes widened. Surely he wasn't...

SMACK

"Ow!" Rachel squealed, struggling. Ben smiled indulgently, gently massaging the spank mark.

"That's right," he said silkily. "I am going to spank you for it."

"No! Please! I don't-!"

SMACK

"Ow!" Rachel cried, feebly kicking. Ben wasn't hitting hard, but the spanks did sting and above all, she was in a very embarrassing position. Did her butt look huge...?

SMACK

"Ouch!" she squirmed, clutching at the couch. "Ben, don't! Please!"

"Come on," he laughed, rubbing her incredible bubble butt in a soothing manner. "It doesn't hurt much. You're just ashamed to be over my knee. Admit it."

"Fine! I admit it! Let me go," she mumbled, and Ben released his hold on her waist with some regret as her taut buttocks disappeared from view. He noted her face was more red than her behind, and it immediately brought a smile to his face.

"What?" Rachel muttered petulantly, crossing her arms. Her scowl darkened as she realised his cum on her tits had adhered to the inside of her shirt.

"Drat. I should have taken your shirt off," he mused, his cock hard again. Rachel glared at him, shrinking back in case he decided to act on it. Ben sighed.

"Really, why'd you run off the other night?"

She shrugged, still pouting.

"Oh, well. You're here now," Ben shrugged back with a sneaky smile. "Are you hungry?"

Rachel shook her head, looking away and Ben narrowed his eyes.

"The silent treatment won't work on me, you know. I have ways to make you talk," he teasingly threatened, edging closer on the couch.

Before Rachel registered his intentions, she squeaked as he moved in, seized her jaw and kissed her. Ben's mouth opened, directing her to follow suit, and next moment their tongues entwined. Suddenly they were both breathing heavily, moving restlessly against each other. Satisfied, Ben slowly disengaged himself and smiled against her lips.

"Admit you like me, Rachel. It wouldn't be the most explicit thing you've admitted to enjoy..."

Again mortified, Rachel rolled her eyes with exasperation and sat back on the couch. "I'm going home."

"Sure," Ben agreed. "When I say so." Never.

Rachel frowned as a memory bugged her. "I saw a car in your garage."

"Yes, I drive a car. Very unusual."

"No, I mean... Why...?"

"Why did I buy you a helmet and bring the bike?" he said frankly, reaching to tuck loose strands of hair behind her ear. Rachel nodded, and he looked thoughtful.

"I felt I would have better control of you on it," he said simply, with a shrug. "The way you spook, I wouldn't put it past you to run into oncoming traffic. But now that you know me," he smiled rather slyly. "I'm sure you'll be a trustworthy vehicle passenger."

Ben was pleased she seemed more comfortable talking to him, even if it was more an interrogation. He liked that she was curious about him. Potentially interested.

"Why me?" she asked, sounding strangely blunt.

"What do you mean?" he frowned, perplexed.

"Nothing," Rachel said quickly.

Ben narrowed his eyes. Whatever point she was trying to make, she was backpedalling. He opened his mouth to pursue the topic, but she quickly moved close and gently kissed his cheek. He knew it was a deliberate distraction, but the sweet gesture worked to perfection.

It distracted him completely and set him tingling, but it wasn't enough. She gasped when his hand slid through her hair and forced her face abruptly closer so he could kiss her properly. Ben's eyes darkened with arousal as his heartrate steadily increased. Standing up, he pulled Rachel to her feet, and directed her to look up at him.

"My bed. Now."

*******

Moonlight streaked through the curtains in a steady white glow, illuminating parts of the bedroom. Rachel blinked, wondering what time it was, where she was, and when she'd fallen asleep.

Then she registered the large, warm body spooning her, felt a deep, steady breathing warm her shoulder, and remembered. She was in Ben's bed, and it was clearly the middle of the night. After they'd fucked, kissed, bantered, sexily fooled around and hotly fucked some more, it was no wonder they passed out.

Many parts of Rachel's body, unused to sex or any kind of prolonged intimacy, pleasantly ached. It was like she could feel every part of flesh that Ben nipped and nibbled, and her lips were puffy after so much kissing.

After a while, the glowing memories of sex and intimacy ebbed, and Rachel began to panic. How was she going to leave without waking him up?

And so over the next half an hour, Rachel painstakingly wriggled, centimetre by centimetre, in the tiniest, innocent movements, every second ready to feign sleep if he roused, until she'd finally managed to edge out of his embrace, and expertly roll off the bed in a nimble movement.

Grabbing her discarded shirt, Rachel tiptoed down the stairs to the living area, squinting around for her handbag and pants. After locating them and dressing herself to look semi-respectable, she sighed, checking her phone's GPS before browsing taxi services. The hour glared disapprovingly at her. 2am.

Well, it was a good adventure, overall. She'd learned not to rudely spy on others, and at the same time received an excellent dose of sex that would likely stoke her fantasies for many years to come. She'd take leave from her job, her occupation was flexible like that. She never took holidays anyway, so she could disappear for a while. More than enough time for Ben to get bored of looking for her.

Hovering in the hall, she idly plucked her cardigan from the bronze stand and dialled, waiting for the line to connect. But then her heart skipped a beat as she heard movement on the stairs. Mouthing obscenities, she scrambled to end the call and lock her phone to snuff the screen-light.

Flattening herself against the wall, she saw Ben's tall figure in the dark, watched him swiftly pace the kitchen and living area. Then he quickly disappeared from view, presumably back to bed. But then Rachel's big sigh of relief lodged in her throat and her eyes widened with dismay as the entire area suddenly flooded with stark, punishing light.

Standing frozen like a deer in headlights, Rachel watched, horrified, as Ben stalked to the couch and picked up her handbag. Then he looked around and saw her flattened against the wall.

"Going somewhere?" he snapped, dropping the handbag.

He'd pulled on pants, but had no shirt on. Ben's bare, toned chest moved rhythmically with flustered anger, and he looked over her newly dressed status with stormy dark eyes. Rachel saw he had one shoe on, and held the other in his hand. Was he going to go after her in the middle of the night?

"Well..." Rachel sheepishly looked at the ceiling. "I thought..."

"You thought what?" Ben barked, dropping the shoe in his hand and kicking the other off his foot. "Do you know what time it is?"

"T-two-ish..." she whispered, feeling like a child caught sneaking out to a forbidden party.

"Exactly. I'm not letting you leave in the middle of the night to get murdered by lunatics." Ben jerked his thumb behind him. "Bed. Now."

"Well, really!" Rachel protested, her voice humiliatingly feeble and fading before she could voice the standard 'I'm a grown woman and can take care of myself like an adult' line. There was no way she could say anything like that with any conviction whilst facing his ferocity.

Ben didn't answer, and strode forward to seize Rachel's hips. She squeaked as he lifted her over his shoulder to carry her up the stairs.

Dropping her onto his king bed, Ben paused, glaring at her with his hands on his hips. He'd once thought the bed was too big for one person, and Rachel looked very small on the large, square mattress. Though he recently discovered the size made for an excellent sexual playground.

Still dressed, she gaped up at him, looking so stunned and innocent that he wanted to jump on her and rip her clothes off. It was as if he never wanted to stop fucking her, but he knew her body needed a break.

"Do you want me to sleep on the couch? Is that it?" he said curtly.

After a brief pause, Rachel shook her head.

"Alright then," Ben said shortly, hiding he was immensely relieved. He wasn't entirely sure he'd be able to respect banishment to another sleeping arrangement.

Climbing into bed, he noticed Rachel sleepily yawn, and fear streaked through him that this girl might have disappeared into the night, that she could have left the safety of his bed and walked into serious trouble outside. Waking up to realise he was alone was a very unpleasant sensation, and his heart still thudded with the terrible anxiety that ensued when he thought she'd slipped through his fingers.

Ben gently eased her out of the worn clothes and enclosed her in his arms, feeling her relax and snuggle against him. The warmth of her body soothed away all his recent tension. He felt like he'd found his soulmate.

Maybe he didn't know everything about Rachel, but it didn't matter. Her appearance, personality and mannerisms matched his desires more perfectly than he could have put down on paper. Maybe it was early days, but he felt he understood her enough to know his life would turn bleak if she left.

A part of him subconsciously knew she wouldn't show up at the food court; irked as he was about it, he wasn't surprised. He'd quickly guessed she'd fled out the back office to evade him, the same way he was suspicious she'd try to leave in the night. It was the same part of him that was absolutely certain she would try and sneak out the next morning. He looked forward to catching her.