It’s a silent communication.
An understanding.
I’m the beast and you’re my prey, his eyes tell me.
Don’t let me be a coward or allow me to escape, must be what I’m communicating back.
Still maintaining eye contact, he slides the blunt side of his knife through my folds. A sense of terror takes hold of me, but that slowly subsides when the rhythm becomes pleasurable.
He teases my clit in rough circles until I’m bucking, reaching, arching my back off the deck.
And then, all of a sudden, he pushes off me and unbuttons his jeans.
The moment his hard shaft is freed, I gasp. Yes, I saw it last night, but I was drunk and he didn’t fuck me. I still think it’s too big for sex.
A sense of apprehension rushes through me and I place a hand on his chest, shaking my head.
The neon mask camouflages his expression, but I can see his eyes through the holes, all dark and terrifying.
He’s going to hurt me. I can read it loud and clear.
Jeremy snatches both my wrists and slams them on the wood above my head. “Keep them there and stop touching me.”
My lips tremble and I whisper, “I…need more time.”
I can’t let him take my virginity like an animal, on a deck, in the midst of owls, crows, and ravens.
Something I should’ve thought about when he asked me to run.
Jeremy lifts his mask and throws it away, revealing his sharp, handsome features. I can’t see him clearly due to the lack of light, but the little I do see causes my heart to beat faster and my core clenches tighter.
He slides the knife from my pussy to my hip, up my stomach, and then grazes the tip against my nipple. A droplet of blood gathers on the tight bud, then rolls down the side of my breast that’s firm with arousal.
His hooded gaze watches the path of the blood, and I do, too, transfixed by the weirdly erotic sight.
But then an eruption happens.
His lips fall on me. He darts his tongue out and licks the droplet of blood, chases it and drinks it off my skin, and then bites my nipple. Hard.
Holy. Shit.
A zap of pleasure strikes the base of my stomach and expands to the rest of my body. I’m still not used to the sensation when he yanks my thighs farther apart and thrusts into my pussy.
My insides recoil and I jerk on the rough wood.
Pain explodes where he tears through me and it hurts. It hurts so much that I cry and try to push at him, but that only makes him thrust again. Brutally.
“Please…please.” I dig my nails into his chest, but I might as well be touching an unfeeling wall.
“Shhh. I told you I’ll break this little cunt, didn’t I? You’re taking my cock so well, Lisichka. Mmm. So fucking tight. Your blood is the best lube I’ve ever had.” He drives in again and my limbs shake from the violence of it.
He doesn’t take it easy. He definitely doesn’t let me adjust.
He’s a beast after his own pleasure and I’m just the vessel at his disposal.
No matter how much I sob and beg, he’s not hearing me. A part of me likes this. I like the primal savagery of it all and how harshly he takes me.
I don’t want him to take it easy on me.
I’d never admit this, but a part of me enjoys how he massacres my hymen and uses my blood and arousal as lube.
He drives inside me with harsh strokes, pulling out to the crown, then ramming back in until my back scrapes on the deck.
He does that over and over until I think I’m going to faint.
But something entirely different happens.
In the middle of the savage fucking and methodical thrusts, my belly tightens, my nipples pucker, and my skin heats so suddenly, I think he’s probably killing me with his thing.
“Mmm. Such a good girl. Do you feel your cunt milking my cock?”
My mouth falls open, but only choked gasps escape. My heart thunders as the tightening heightens and the pain morphs into the exact opposite.
Pleasure.
Boundless.
Absolutely insane.
It’s the type of desire that comes from extreme pain. The knowledge that he wants me so much, he’s hurting me.
He wants to hurt me.
He finds pleasure in chasing, manhandling, and fucking me like an animal.
My insides coil and rebel.
I fall into it.
Into being ravaged, taken, taken, and taken.
He craves my softness as much as I yearn for his dominant cruelty.
“You’re addictive. I want to break you.” Thrust. “Own you.” Thrust. “Mark you.”
He accentuates the last statement by biting my throat in the exact spot he did yesterday.
Everything inside me comes crashing down as sharp pain and pleasure overlap and detonate me all at once.