“Now!” he snarled and my legs obeyed but I was whimpering.
He leaned over me and took his cock and started gliding it up and down and up and down between my folds, against my clit. I just laid there staring at the ceiling.
“Look at me,” he demanded.
My eyes met his.
“You’re mine,” he said.
I felt my eyebrows furrow. I tried to relax them. I didn’t want to provoke him further.
“Never run from me again.” More rubbing, especially on my clit. I was trembling.
“I’m the one in control,” he said.
He leaned down and took a nipple into his mouth and sucked. Then he took his cock and repeated the process of stroking it up and down. After several strokes he rammed into me to the hilt. He did this not taking his eyes off mine.
“I own this pussy,” he declared coldly.
I couldn’t hide my disgust and tried to look away.
“Look at me,” he demanded.
“Fuck you,” I whimpered.
“Oh, it’s back on, is it?” he asked and he looked sickeningly pleased.
He leaned down and tried to kiss me. He actually tried to kiss me! I reached up to push his face away but he caught my arm and then pinned both arms and started to pound into me, fuck me and use me like I was a piece of meat and then kissed me hard, painfully, and then grunted, “Try to slap my face again and I’ll slap your face. In fact, I think I still owe you a black eye and a fat lip, don’t I?”
My whole body went lax, I didn’t try to fight. That threat was his winning move. He threatened to hit me while his cock was inside of me and I was just done fighting. I just stayed there, letting him push into me over and over until he leaned back over and started to kiss me, hungrily, roughly, his hand back around my throat. I tried to float away in my mind, I saw the sky over the field back at his farm and imagined his beautiful face looking at me with love and I tried to feel that love. But I couldn’t. I just wanted to float away.
He finally came, but not inside me; he pulled out and came all over my stomach, marking me like I was his property. He reached over and wiped my stomach with something, I didn’t see what. Then he went limp and breathless on top of me.
He stayed there for a second, breathing hard. I don’t know if I even breathed or if I was just frozen in horror. Finally, he leaned, reached over me, and flicked the lamp back on and said, “Put it back on me.” He had the silver necklace in his hand. The necklace?
I usually fumbled with things like that, I don’t know how I got it unclasped and re-clasped in the dim room in the state of mind I was in but I did, first try, as he hovered over me watching me do it, looking at me stripped bare and vulnerable and at his mercy, his own expression stripped bare and telling me so much with his eyes. His eyes came into focus for me and they were on mine and suddenly pain-stricken, sorrowful. My throat and chest both started to burn.
After it was around his neck and my hands dropped back listlessly to the mattress he looked at me, that pain and sorrow etched in his features intensifying. I just stared back at him, feeling empty, raw, feeling utterly broken. I bit back the emotion. He rolled off of me, reached down to the floor and grabbed the t-shirt he had on, and then he put it over my head. He took a wrist and motioned for me to get my arm into the arm hole. I did the second arm myself.
He laid back down on top of me, burying his face into my neck, “Fuck baby. I love you,” he whispered that into my ear and then ran his thumb over my bottom lip. Then he started to stroke my hair and we just stayed there and he kept doing that while I was pinned underneath him. I didn’t make a sound, I didn’t move a muscle. Eventually, he fell asleep right on top of me like that.
When his breathing evened out, my hand came up and covered my mouth. Realization of how dark and deep that rabbit hole actually was had just sunk in with his I love you. This was him, the rest of him. This was what he meant when he said, “and you have to take all of me.” I was in so much more trouble than I’d even imagined. I held back the tears, held back the sob that threatened to burst from deep in my gut out of my throat and just swallowed it.
Tommy
One of the many great things about Vegas is that it never sleeps and because of that, you can get anything at any hour. I woke up at 2:40 am and I was starving. She was underneath me, still, and she was awake.
I leaned up onto my elbows and looked down at her and assessed her face for a few minutes. She was looking me right in the eyes; she was looking straight into my soul. But I couldn’t read her, “Hungry?” I asked. We’d skipped dinner.
She kept staring at me for a moment, blinking at me like she was stunned or something. Then she gave me a little bit of a nod.
“Let’s go find some food,” I kissed her on the mouth and then got out of bed and into my boxers and headed to the closet for clothes. She got up and she hurried into the bathroom.
I touched the crucifix that sat against my chest and then pulled it back and forth on the chain, deep in thought, waiting for her.
She came out a moment later with her hair tied in a ponytail. She’d put some makeup on but she looked rough. Her eyes were puffy from all the crying and her lips looked a bit swollen and bruised. I knew I’d kissed her hard. Her eyes landed briefly on my necklace and then she averted them.
I watched her go to the closet and get out a pair of white jeans, a pink collared shirt, and a pair of ballet type shoes and then she grabbed a bra and underwear and went back into the bathroom and got dressed. I headed to the other bathroom. I was done before she was. When she came out, she put her phone in her purse and then zipped it up and put it diagonal across her body and stood there, staring at the carpet. I texted Jimmy to tell them that we were going out but that we were good for the night and then I took her hand and we headed out in search of sustenance.