I was terrified of him that night.
And I had to be terrified of him again if I wanted to feel that way.
Which wasn’t hard. He pressed me down deep and I gagged, moaned, pulled back. I stroked him fast with both hands.
He pulled me to my feet by my hair and dragged me over to the wall. He shoved me hard against it and I gasped when my head hit. He smirked as he took off his shirt.
His body was muscular and lean, covered in snaking tattoos along his flesh. His cock glistened with my spit, massive and gorgeous.
He dropped to his knees in front of me and tugged down my jeans, unpeeling me slowly, stripping me naked. He kissed me from my navel down to the top of my stubble-slick pussy. He slipped a finger down along my folds and I knew it came back wet.
He sucked the juice and smirked as he spread me wide.
“You’re not scared enough yet, princess,” he whispered as he slid two fingers inside of me. “Do I need to make it hurt more?”
“God no,” I said, moaning. I tilted my head back and looked up at the ceiling.
He plunged his fingers deeper then swapped out for his tongue. He lapped me up, licking me and sucking me hard, using his teeth to tease my swollen clit. I tried to grab his hair, but he pinned my wrists against my sides.
I tried to get away but he shoved me back hard. I sucked in a breath in surprise—
Then he plunged his fingers in me, fucking me with them fast and he licked my clit, and I felt a shiver on my spine. My back arched, moans wrenched themselves from my lips, and I came in a sudden, wild spray of intense pleasure. He kept going, lapping me up, enjoying his feast, and I stared down at his shining lips and eyes when he finished, licking me off his fingers.
“Fuck,” I whispered. “Oh my god. I didn’t know I could come that fast.”
He laughed and stood then grabbed my hair. I gasped as he pulled me from the wall. He wasn’t gentle and I tried to push him away—it hurt like hell. He slapped my wrists and threw me down onto the couch.
“Spread your legs,” he said, stroking himself like a monster.
I shook my head.
I didn’t want to obey. I wanted him to make me.
He grinned, like he understood.
“I’ll ask one more time. Spread your legs, let me see your dripping cunt.”
“No,” I said.
“So you’re going to get yours, but I can’t have mine? That’s very selfish. You’ve been a very bad girl, haven’t you?”
“Fuck you. I thought you wanted to kill me?”
His eyes brightened even more. “I still do, princess. But first I want to use your body. I want to fuck your pussy until you’re spread wide and bleeding, and only then will I let you come. I want to fill your ass and leave you limping for weeks. I want to suck your nipples, bite your tongue, make you ride me until I’ve had my fill. I want to take you, little princess.”
“God, you’re so full of shit. All you do is talk.”
He grinned huge and stopped stroking himself. He knelt down in front of me and I crawled on my back away from him. He grabbed my ankle and yanked hard and I gasped. I tried to kick him, but he knocked my other foot away and wrenched my knees open.
I sat up, slapping at him, but he grabbed my wrist and shoved me back down on the couch. I felt his cock, his thick, massive tip against my soaked opening, teasing my folds.
I struggled but he held me down with one massive hand. With the other, he reached down between my legs and roughly plunged two fingers inside.
“Go ahead and struggle,” he whispered. “I think we both like it.”
“Fuck you.”
He pressed his cock against me and shoved my legs wider. He moved his other hand up and shoved two fingers into my mouth—forcing me to taste my own arousal.
I moaned, my pussy juice on my tongue, as he shoved his cock inside of me.
I gasped, back arching. It hurt, god, it hurt. He wasn’t gentle about it, wasn’t kind or slow, wasn’t trying to let me get used to his size first.
He took me, like he said I would.
I moaned with his fingers still in my mouth. I bit him hard and he grunted, pulled them back, then grabbed my hair. He pulled it roughly and fucked me, slow, rough strokes, making my body, my breasts shake with each movement.
Pain, so much pain, as he ripped me open—but that pain was laced with a strange, wild pleasure.
The joy of being controlled and dominated.
There was no escape for me. Unless I said that word, he’d take me, no matter how hard I fought.