Bound

Title: Bound
Author: Chriscent
Rating: NC-17
Disclaimer: I think I own these first 2, but later I don’t own Riddick. Ain’t getting nothing for this anyway.
Archive: Ask, please.
Feedback: OH, GOD, YES!!
Note: This story was originally 'Original'. I just wrote it from staring at a Vin pic for too long (what's too long?). Sat for a while, until I had an urge for some hardcore m/m. So here we go, introducing Riddick to the mix.
Here's the pic:
http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v111/chriscent/Vin/Vin12.jpg


Part 1: Bound

“Here.”

Carly turned the knob of the indicated door with breathless anticipation. She couldn’t stop her heart from hammering against the walls of her chest.

The room was dark, nearly pitch black, and for the moment she was thankful for that. She entered and closed the door, shutting out the light from the hall.

The dead silence made her ears ring with her own sounds, breath, heartbeat, and thoughts all clamored as if they’d deafen her. Slowly her eyes adjusted and the darkness was no longer absolute.

Curtains hung heavy over large windows, but couldn’t banish all of the city’s light. A glow around the edges defined their location. Light switches were lit for easier locating, and mirrors at several points about the large room reflected these weak lights back and forth until she could make out the room.

Light colored carpet, dark walls, dark furniture. Her wide eyes rose to the ceiling to see the dark shape of a mirror. It forced her gaze straight down to the bed.

The bedding was dark, if not black, and so made the lighter shades of flesh stand out like an absence.

Her breath sucked in through her nose uncontrollably at the first sight of him. Sweat broke out on her upper lip despite the room’s comfortable temperature. Just knowing he was there, in the same room, caused the shaking of her hands to worsen.

Now that she’d located him she couldn’t take her eyes off him. His limbs were spread, reaching to all four corners of the large bed. She knew he was kept that way by bonds strong enough to thwart any would-be attempts to free himself.

As if her thought had spurred him to action, he moved. She watched elbows bend in the limited space he’d been given. A creaking sound held for long seconds as he tested both the bonds and the structure of the bed he’d been confined to. His breath hissed through teeth and then he exhaled and relaxed, nothing giving way.

She stepped closer, maybe just a pace or two, but it made his head come around.

“Fucking untie me.”

The deep growl of his voice was unnerving, and exciting. Her body reacted to it unbidden. She flushed and shuffled her feet uncomfortably.

How safe would it be to get near him? Even restrained he was a force to reckon with.

“I’m not going to hurt you,” she found herself whispering. The size and stillness of the room made her voice sound both loud and small.

“I don’t give a shit. Un-fucking-tie me.” His demands provoked him to fight his bonds. He jerked and pulled violently, making the bed creak in protest and the metal clasps of his restraints to jangle.

Carly moved closer, her hand outstretched until it touched his thick rock-solid arm, flexed to unyielding magnificence by his struggles.

His movement stopped immediately, but now he panted from the efforts. A growl of sound started in his chest and rose until he roared wordlessly.

Carly stepped back at the intimidating thunder that filled the room and echoed back.

“What the fuck do you want?”

She panted from the sudden fright, and it took her a second to realize that he’d spoken to her.

Helplessly she lifted a shoulder, “You.”

He stared at her, his brows coming together. “What the fuck, lady. This isn’t the normal way to get a date.”

She blushed crimson, hating his condescending words, “I know,” she whispered.

He looked away, a frustrated growl coming from him as he pulled on the restraints yet again.

“Can I get you anything?”

He smiled, a Cheshire cat sort of grin that lit up like an evil jack-o-lantern. “Yeah, a free hand so I can rip out your throat.”

He delivered his threat with such menace that she gasped and stepped back, her heart picking up the pace yet again.


Nic felt as helpless as a babe and as pissed as a bull. Kidnapped? What year was it? Who just abducted grown men off the street?

He'd been heading out of the house, a late night workout. He could've stayed in, used his own gym, but he preferred that tang of old sweat, usually getting to work with someone else, and he never missed the chance to strut his shit in and out of a public establishment.

No real self-defense or fight training, but he'd knocked his share of would-be's on their ass. He'd always thought brain over brawn won the battle, but that it didn't hurt to have the brawn on your side.

None of that had come into play when he'd been stopped. It had happened so fast, the car, a couple guys. They hadn't really roughed him up and he'd thought it could even be a prank, some friend sending an offer that couldn't be refused. But in the closed space of the car he was muscled to the floor and bound. No prank now.


Carly chewed her lip and looked around, hoping that the restraints would hold to his punishing struggles, for her own safety’s sake. “I meant to make you more comfortable. It’s not my intention to torture you.”

“What are your fuckin’ intentions then?”

She shrugged, “To use you.”

His head flinched to look at her, obviously not having expected directness. “Lady, there are better ways to do this.”

She chewed her lip again, wishing to make him understand, “There are special circumstances. I can’t explain to you now.”

“Why me?”

Her gaze became unfocused and then between one blink and the next she looked up at the mirror above him where he was reflected. Smile widening, she raised one brow.

His gaze had followed hers, and he growled. Her basis was probably something he dealt with daily, by women everywhere he went. He was a perfect specimen of a man. A body like his wasn’t gotten without hard work and discipline. The unfairness being that he’d toiled to get the one thing that had made him a target.

“And when you’re done?” His tone was resigned, and still more than a little furious.

“You’ll be free to go,” she supplied.

He twisted his wrists in the bonds, and lifted his head to look up at the posts holding him. After a few minutes of harsh pulling, testing their resilience he relaxed and exhaled. “Then let’s get this over with.”

His capitulation hadn’t been expected and she paused, waiting for something more. Then when he didn’t try to move again she spoke, “You’re willing to cooperate?”

“It doesn’t fucking appear I have a choice, lady.” His voice rose as he spoke, the raw power of it stimulating her. But he wouldn’t look at her. Defeat for someone like him must be traumatic.

“If it makes any difference, I plan to make this enjoyable for you as well.”

His body flexed, every muscle working in turn, his shoulders last, intimating a shrug. With dark eyes on her his voice hissed out, “I might enjoy it, but I’ll enjoy killing you just as much.”

Carly nodded, covering her surprise at his threat. Raping the willing is possible, but rape is still rape.

She wore a satin outfit of shorts, tank and a short robe over it all. The robe dropped to the floor, not in a hurry to get naked. First she just wanted to touch him.

Stepping closer to the high bed made him tense. His narrowed eyes stayed on her, but he didn’t react otherwise. She slowly looked up. In the mirror above she got the full impact of his large body sprawled across the bed. He was huge, and beautiful.

His eyes rose to look up as well, but he glared, rather than appreciated the perfect vision he was.

Starting at his bound wrist, she touched him. The cuffs were thick and padded, designed to keep him from injuring himself no matter how strenuously he struggled. His skin showed to be inflamed, but not damaged. She nodded at this.

So hard, yet so soft. His skin was like silk over steel. Her fingers trailed downward over corded muscle that tightened beneath her offensive touch. The visible lines of his veins stood out, drawing her fingertips to trace them. His light hair was ticklish to her palms, but mostly she was interested in his inflexible physique.

His body was like a chiseled sculpture. Stone and art could never recreate his self-made perfection. The breadth of her hand squeezed, not feeling the least bit of give in the taut power of his bicep.

Her fingers trailed feather soft under his arm and she saw his body shudder in reaction, gooseflesh rising across his stomach. She did it again, smiling softly at the repeated response.

“May I touch your face?”

He turned his face toward her. Had he been watching her in the mirror? “If you want a bite taken out of something.”

A predictable retort and she nodded. “I can gag you.”

His jaw worked, clearly not liking the idea of the added humiliation.

She’d worked herself onto the bed, beside him on her knees. She leaned over him so that she could look directly at him and he’d have no choice but to look back. “You choose. If you can’t control yourself I’ll have to gag you. But if you hurt me,” she bit her lip, “There would be repercussions.”

His look remained defiant.

“Please. I don’t want to humiliate you any further.”

He frowned, her reluctant tone apparently making an impression. She didn’t want to tell him what she could do to further degrade him without ever actually hurting him.

Finally he nodded, but he looked far from pleased by his further surrender.

Carly smiled softly, her fingers brushing over his creased forehead, “Thank you.”

He turned his face away from her and she felt a moment of regret for forcing her will on him.

Sitting to one side, she let her hands explore him further, leaving his face alone for now. He might feel more comfortable after she’d been at him for longer.

His chest and stomach were just as glorious as his arms. Plainly defined pectorals led to the undulating grooves of a washboard stomach. Indentations on either side of his hips left his stomach to arrow down to his groin. She traced the patterns of him, making the muscles of his stomach work. His arms tugged at the bonds, and he growled in frustration. The reason for it became evident when the relaxed state of his penis suddenly changed.

She hesitated, watching the gradual stiffening. He squirmed, a low growl coming from the chest beneath her. As perfect in form as he was, all men were created equal in some ways.

“Why do you fight this? It was inevitable.”

“I don’t fucking want you.”

She rolled her eyes and looked at his face over her shoulder and his body. “So say you. I understand that you’re angry that you’ve lost your freedom, but it is temporary. Compliance doesn’t make you weak. And resistance is futile, so why bother?”

“I wouldn’t give you the satisfaction,” he growled, tugging his arms against the restraints.

Carly sighed in aggravation, “Yet satisfied is what I will be, no matter how much you struggle. So what’s the point?”

He didn’t answer, but at least his movements stopped.

She’d never have enough of touching him, but she had to move on. This couldn’t take all night, and she couldn’t wait to get her mouth on him anyway, so why wait? She started right where she was.

His breath sucked in as her mouth came down on his belly. She closed her eyes and reveled in the taste of him, the feel, the texture.

Breathing softly through her nose she worked upward, her pointed tongue dug into any crevice his writhing muscles made for her, laving the flat planes of his torso.

He was breathing heavier before she reached his nipples. Her mouth covering one of the flat areolas caused a grunt from him. She half expected him to start working against his bonds again, but he lay still beneath her.

Pebbled and sensitive, her attention to his nipple caused his breathing to change and his body to tense. But she could tell that he was trying not to react.

Turning, she sucked at his inner elbow, feeling a shudder run through him. The bicep was flexed hard and she allowed her teeth to scrape over him as she worked northward once more.

Kneeling beside him, she rose up and pulled the flimsy tank off, tossing it aside. His eyes traveled upward, stopping at her breasts and she stayed as she was for long seconds, letting him look his fill. She knew how she looked, and like him, worked for it.

When no disparaging words came from him she took it as close to a compliment as he could give.

Leaning over she brought her face to his and watched him turn away, his eyes squeezed shut.

No matter. Carly brushed her lips against his ear, her breath fanning him. He twitched. She tongued the shell of his ear, smelling his sweat and the other scents that were him. He controlled his reaction, but she still felt a tensing of his chest and shoulders.

Standing on the bed above him, she let her shorts drop, leaving her nude. Stepping over him, she dropped down to straddle his waist. That systematic tensing of his muscles again. She wondered if he was using it as a distraction.

He was too wide and big for her to be on her knees, but she wasn’t ready to ride him yet. Leaning over him, she held herself face to face with him. “You’re a man. I won’t ridicule you for your reaction, and nothing you do will ever leave this room.”

“Fuck you.”

But he’d looked at her again and this time didn’t look away.

Moving slowly she pressed her lips to the corner of his mouth. A soft breath, a tiny kiss, and then she licked him, just wetting his bottom lip. His eyes remained closed but after a few seconds his lips parted the barest amount. Carly took it as promising.

She breathed across his lips, hers captured that pouting bottom lip, tugging on it. No reaction from him was at least positive. Releasing him, she kissed the corner of his mouth again, feeling his lips parted that little bit more.

Gradually and tenderly she coaxed him. Lips brushing, tongue darting, teeth nibbling, breath fanning. He remained immobile beneath her, not contributing, but not resisting either.

When his breath was fanning her in small pants she progressed northward. Every part of his face received her attentions. She breathed in the masculine fragrance, letting her breath be a caress that he couldn’t escape. Cheeks, eyes, forehead, ears, then back to his mouth, her lips moving whisper soft over his skin.

He was most definitely breathing harder. Her lips touched his fully, the first full contact and he responded with a guttural sound. Carly made sure to not sound out her triumph. In fact she slowed, letting him lead her. When his tongue ventured to touch her own she sighed accordingly.

That she’d pushed him to this amount of participation was astonishing. She was in no hurry to move on from this, and most likely snapping him back into his gruff opposition of her.

Long minutes passed and Carly remained where she was, hovering over him, letting him kiss her. But inevitably the reverie must end. His unconscious movement to touch her, his hand pulled short by the restraint holding him acted like a slap in the face. He blinked up at her, his eyes moving to the hand he’d tried to move, then snapping back at her in disgust.

Carly pursed her lips, truly sorry that reality had tromped on his pleasant involvement.

“I could release you,” she whispered and she watched his eyes light up, almost cruelly, as he was unable to hide that he’d take full advantage of any freedom to exact revenge. “If only I could trust you not to hurt me.”

He scowled, obviously knowing that she couldn’t ever do that, his reaction to even the prospect confirming that.

Sliding downward, she was careful to lift over his near fully erect member. He was looking upward when she glanced at him, and she slowly turned her head to look up at them in the mirror poised above.

She took a shaky breath at seeing their image. He was all glorious man, hard and menacing, his hostile glare only adding to the impression of danger. She was curled between his spread legs, her imminent duty unmistakable. She smiled deliberately, content to let him watch the proceedings from above, where he wouldn’t miss a thing.

With her whole mouth she started at his base and licked upward. He hissed softly. She repeated the motion, exaggerating the fullest movement for the affect in the mirror. After that first sound he controlled any further reaction.

Never easily thwarted, she lifted his length, and dropped her mouth on him. Practiced and talented, she didn’t stop until her nose brushed the fine hairs of his stomach and she could no longer breath. A few seconds hold, and then she was drawing off, her lips and tongue and the suction of her mouth pulling at him.

He groaned roughly, reassuring her that she’d hadn’t lost her touch.

Moving deviously slow she slid downward again, tongue swirling, her hand pushing at the base to stretch him that extra quarter inch. He grunted at the pressure and did the instinctive thing. He pushed back, or in this case, pushed upward.

She rewarded his contribution with a faster stroke, eliciting a new sound of pleasure from deep in his chest.

He learned quickly. If he showed even the smallest amount of acquiescence she worked him ardently, but when he stilled, she slowed.

A growl of frustration showed her that he’d picked up on her scheming tactics. But it only took a few displays of her methods for him to give in with a low groan and move consensually.

Minutes passed, his sounds of pleasure coming faster and rougher with each bob of her head.

Carly gauged his condition, not wanting to bring him to release quite yet.

When he became perfectly rigid, his sounds just grunts for breath, she backed off, slowing down. When she did it for the second time, just keeping him from coming, he roared and jerked viciously on his bonds, making the thick material snap tight repeatedly.

Carly pulled away from him, knowing that she was pushing him. Looking upward over him, she could see the glisten of sweat on his taut skin, his face fierce as he gritted his teeth with the effort to try to free himself.

“I’m sorry. That wasn’t fair,” she whispered.

All at once he relaxed, sighing heavily. She slowly crawled further up his body. Her breasts touched against his saliva-sticky dick and she stopped, hearing him give a nearly reluctant groan. He lifted his hips, pressing deeper into her soft flesh.

She dropped a kiss on his damp belly and then worked upward, kissing and tasting him along the way.

When her hips were even with his she carefully stood, moving over him fully. She couldn’t fuck him on her knees, her legs were too short, and he was just too big. So she’d have to squat onto him, not the most flattering position, but it wouldn’t stop her.

He watched her as she stood over him, feet on either side of his waist. As she started to lower herself she saw him tense, his jaw gritting as he used the leverage of the bonds to lift his hips to her.

Carly gripped him with one hand behind her back and held him in position. Slowly she lowered herself onto him, her juices easing the way for him to slide in. She gasped at the way he stretched her. She tried to hold still for a bit, but he jerked upward, shoving himself further into her and she cried out, her eyes rolling. Slowly she sank onto him without any more hesitation.

He growled, his head pushing into the pillow as he strained upward into her. She didn’t move yet, too full to do more than sit on him and adjust to the breadth of him.

Needing leverage, she used her own knees to pull herself up to drop back into place. His breath was rough, bursts of sound like a growled purr timed to her movement, but otherwise he made no sound.

She leaned back, playing with the angle. The mirror above her drew her eye and she moaned in pleasure at the spectacle of their reflection.

In the mirror she watched him raise his hands, and she looked down to verify it. The straps holding him gave him enough room to lift his hands, and nearly touch his head, but not quite. The gesture was an invitation and she took it, putting her hands in his.

His strength lent her the leverage she needed to bounce on him and he growled at their joint effort.

She squeezed the rigid muscle plunging into her, flexing internally, until she was shuddering and panting. Their pace increased, his hips lifting to her in the limited space so they could drop down to the bed together, the impact remarkable.

Carly could feel how close she was getting, and knowing how close he’d already been spurred her faster.

Suddenly his hold on her hands tightened painfully. Her attention snapped abruptly from their joined sex to the straining tendons of his punishing grip. She cried out and pulled her hands back, only freeing them because of the dampness of their palms and his restricted movement.

Eyes wide at his insolence she just stared down at him, trying to register through the warm fuzz of her mind that he’d attempted to harm her. His hips tilted up into her and she presently disregarded his retaliation.

Hands against his stomach, she rode him to a hot, sweaty, shuddering release. Her orgasm clenched around him and she felt his own strike him, his dick pulsing inside her, his body straining through it.

Winded and sweating, she slid off of him, collecting her discarded clothing as she went. His voice was breathless when he drew her attention.

“You said I could go when you finished,” he reminded her, anger and trepidation affecting his voice equally.

She turned back, feeling exhausted from their activities. “I also said that if you hurt me I’d find a way to further humiliate you.”

“I—“

She stepped closer, the remembrance of him causing her pain stirring her ire. “You will not dishonor me!” Her voice dropped from a yell to one of icy malice. “Humility is not a lesson I take lightly. You were warned, but you acted against me anyway. You made your bed, now lie in it.”

Carrying her clothes, she left the room. The door closing cut off the sound of his struggling and cursing.