Captive Audience, Part II

Despite Wyndemere’s age, it was equipped with all the modern amenities known to man. Stefan Cassadine had spared no expense to equip the huge dwelling with every form of ‘creature comfort’ money could provide. Hence, the shower in which Sabrina stood.

It was built alongside the immense marble tub, and was of the newest architectural design. With the exception of the tiled back wall, clear plexiglass panels stretched from the ceiling to the floor, allowing the user an unobstructed view of the rest of the bath. At any time, up to three shower heads could be operated simultaneously in order to surround the user with water.

The design was Sabrina’s wish. Against her fiancÚ’s protests, she had remained firm in her demand for it. She remarked flippantly that Stefan would come to appreciate it after he had watched her shower a few times.

The truth of her words was ironic. At the moment, Stefan watched as Sabrina stood in the path of the shower’s three pounding sprays. Her back was to him, but he could sense her pleasure from the set of her body. His new bride was a such a sensual being. She made even the most common experience an opportunity for physical enjoyment.

Stefan silently opened the shower door and stepped into the shower. A sixth sense alerted Sabrina to his presence and she whirled around to face him. “Stefan!” she exclaimed, surprised that he’d freed himself so quickly.

As quick as a snake, he wrapped his arms about her and slammed her against the tiled wall. Her shriek of surprise made him grin evilly. “I’m sorry,” he asked in the same falsely concerned voice Sabrina had used on him earlier. “Was that cold?”

Sabrina read the intent in his emerald eyes. Perhaps she had pushed him too far. It was obvious now that Stefan intended to make her pay.

With deliberate care, Stefan’s hands slid down Sabrina’s arms to grasp her wrists. Firmly he brought them together up over her head and gripped them in one strong hand.


He silenced her with narrowed eyes. Their gazes locked, Stefan reached over and picked up the bar of soap from its holder. While the water streamed over them both, he gently rubbed the fragrant bar against her skin. Sabrina watched as he replaced the soap in its holder then reached over to the showerhead. One quick twist of his wrist and the stream became a soft mist. It landed lightly on their skin and then gathered to form droplets that raced boldly down their nude forms.

Stefan’s hand made slow circles across her chest as he spread the soapy lather all over her. He took his time, his hand gliding across her tingling skin with excruciating thoroughness. Sabrina closed her eyes and simply concentrated on the sensations her body was feeling.

He cupped one full breast in his hand and swirled the lather around it, taking particular care to caress the taut nipple. When that was done, he moved to its mate and repeated the process all over again.

His bride could only bite her lip to stifle the moans that threatened to break free. Momentarily she opened her eyes to find Stefan’s gaze still fixed upon her. It had not moved since he began his ‘retribution’ against her. Defiantly, she met his eyes, determined to match his will. But as his hand began a leisurely journey down her body, she could not prevent their fluttering shut once more.

With a single-mindedness that rivaled anything Sabrina had experienced, her new husband stroked her flat stomach. His fingers softly kneaded and smoothed her skin as her breathing became hurried. She whimpered when his strong hand ceased its actions. But almost immediately, she felt his hand once more.

Sabrina cried out as she felt him guide the cool bar of soap between her thighs. It brushed against her aroused body, and the unexpected sensation triggered in her a powerful orgasm that left her jerking against Stefan’s hand. Immense pleasure filled him as he observed the total ecstasy upon her face.

As her tremors began to lessen, he parted her sensitive folds with his fingers, and thrust home. “Stefan!” Sabrina’s scream echoed within the enclosure. He captured the sound with a bruising kiss.

For Stefan, all coherent thought was gone. In its place was desire. Instinctive. Intense. Primal. Relentlessly he pounded into her, his way made slick by both her wetness and the lather which now covered them both. Like well-oiled pistons his hips moved, driving his engorged member into Sabrina mercilessly.

Blindly his free hand slid across the smooth tiles until it came in contact with the small hand-bar the building contractor had insisted on installing. Like a drowning man grasping a buoy, Stefan clutched the iron bar. His knuckles were white with effort as he used its stability to help deepen his thrusts.

Sabrina fought to free her hands from his grip. Her desire to pull her husband closer was as great as the drive to push him away. Each maddening stroke brought him in contact with her tiny nub. The resulting pleasure/pain was so intense that Sabrina could not decide if she wanted Stefan to stop, or continue and give her blessed relief. “Please, Stefan,” she begged.

Sabrina’s broken pleas sent him spiraling toward release. Frantically he drove into her as though he could lose himself within her heated walls. Without warning, Stefan orgasmed. It was so powerful that he could not control his body’s spasms. He emptied himself into his wife with straining, grinding strokes.

As one they cried out. Sabrina’s limbs stiffened and her mouth gaped wordlessly as her overloaded senses seemed to explode.

Weakly they clung to one another as their trembling bodies struggled to remain upright. There were no words spoken. Stefan and Sabrina knew that what had just transpired between them merely confirmed what they already knew. Each had found in the other a perfect match, and more importantly, a perfect mate.