He pulls back, smirking, and slaps me. Not hard, but enough to make my teeth clack together. Before I can react, he covers my mouth with one huge hand, forcing my jaw open with his thumb. He spits into my mouth, slow, deliberate, eyes daring me to refuse.
I swallow. I don’t mean to, but I do.
Holy fuck… why was that so hot?
“Good girl,” he whispers, and something in me snaps.
I claw at his arm, and he lets go. “You’re not better than me,” I snarl. “You’re just a glorified thug.”
He grins. “But you’re still here, aren’t you?”
I hate him. I hate him so much I want to die.
“Well, you’ve got me there. I don’t tend to fight off sex-crazed apes, my bodyguards do though, so if you want to die… all I need to do is scream.”
“Do it. I wonder if I could fuck you in the ass and dump my load deep inside you before I give them the beat down of their lives.”
Despite myself…
I whimper.
He grabs my wrists, twisting them behind my back, and spins me to face the wall. My cheek is pressed flat against the cold stone, nipples scraped raw by the rough surface. His knee pries my legs apart, and he pulls my pants down with a single swipe. He pulls my panties down to my knees, letting them hang like a collar for a dog.
“Say please,” he says, voice thick with hunger.
I bite my tongue and shake my head.
He grinds against my ass, cock hard and hot through his jeans. “Say it,” he repeats.
I close my eyes, waiting for him to force me.
He does.
He slides two fingers into me, no warning, so deep I nearly scream. He fucks me with his hand, fast and merciless, the wet sounds echoing off the stone. My hips buck, my whole body trembling, but he pins me with his weight. I’m so wet that his palm glistens in the dim light. He brings his fingers up, smears the slickness across my cheek, then shoves them between my lips.
“Clean it,” he commands.
I suck his fingers, biting down hard at the last second. He laughs, low and dark, and pulls his hand free.
The zipper on his jeans hisses loud. A heartbeat later, the head of his cock is pushing against me.
From somewhere behind us, I hear a gasp and the slap of feet as they turn and run.
He pauses just long enough for me to realize what’s coming.
“You want to be ruined?” he asks, pressing into me, splitting me open.
He doesn’t wait for an answer. He thrusts in, one hard stroke, and I cry out. His hand clamps over my mouth, cutting off the sound. He fucks me against the wall, every slam of his hips driving the breath from my lungs. The stone scrapes my breasts, my ribs, the side of my face. I don’t care.
I push back against him, meeting every thrust, matching his violence with my own. My nails scrape the brick, breaking my nails and leaving bloody streaks.
He leans over my back, lips at my ear. “You’re nothing but a little slut for my cock, aren’t you, princess,” he says, voice a snarl.
I want to deny it, but my cunt clenches around him, and I feel the orgasm building—deep and ugly, a betrayal of everything I am.
He pulls out, barely, then slams back in, fingers digging bruises into my hips. I can’t tell where the pain ends and the pleasure begins. It’s all one, and it’s all his.
I come with a scream, muffled by his hand, body shaking so hard I think I’ll snap in half. He doesn’t let up. He fucks me through it, even as my legs give out and my cheek grinds harder into the wall.
