1
Imade it to the mouth of the alley behind my building before he took me.
The rain was a solid sheet now, hammering everything it touched, and turning the ground into a solid pool. My cheap umbrella barely kept the rain away. If I could just get under some covering, I could wait out the storm then haul ass to my building.
I couldn’t see five feet in front of me, but it wouldn’t have made a difference anyway. One minute I was running down the sidewalk and the next, a wet leather-gloved hand clamped over my mouth so hard my jaw creaked. The hand felt massive, big and masculine and wholly male.
An arm thicker than hell locked around my ribs, and I was lifted effortlessly off the ground and swung to the side. My feet kicked uselessly in the air, heels scraping the brick of the building to my side as he dragged me deeper into the dark alley. The wind caught my umbrella and whisked it away; the ribs snapping and breaking.
My back hit the unforgiving wall with a wet thud that drove every ounce of air from my lungs. For a second, the world was nothing but pain and rain and the smell of hot male skin under wet cotton. Then I saw him.
He moved to step in front of me. He was six-foot-seven, maybe more. Shoulders so wide the alley seemed to shrink around him. Black t-shirt under a black hoodie plastered to his chest, and every ridge and slab of muscle outlined like he’d been carved from obsidian.
Water streamed off the matte black skull mask, running in rivulets over the hollow cheeks, dripping from the lipless grin. Those empty eye sockets swallowed the streetlight whole.
I should have screamed.
Instead, the most pathetic, needy sound crawled out of me and vibrated against his palm, muffled, wet, desperate.
He leaned in until the cold plastic of the mask brushed my cheek. I heard him inhale slow and deep, dragging the air from my throat into his lungs like he was tasting me. His thighs were thick as my waist and solid muscle. He shoved one between mine and pressed up. Hard, grinding it against my pussy.
The material scraped over my clit, and I jerked, thighs clamping around him on pure instinct.
I was drenched. And not just from the rain. My panties had been ruined the second I felt those footsteps behind me. Now, my sick desire clung to my pussy, my underwear soaked through with slick that had nothing to do with weather.
He pulled back an inch but kept his thigh right where it was. He tilted his head, studying me as if I were prey he’d finally cornered.
“Been watching you for weeks, little girl,” he rasped, voice wrapping around me and turning me on more. His voice was deep, holding something demonic and velvet-rough. “Every night you walk this street, I wonder if your cunt is dripping down your thighs. Wonder if you’re being watched and followed. I bet you pray someone big and mean finally snaps and takes what’s his.”
I shook my head, frantic, even as my hips rolled shamelessly against his thigh, chasing friction.
He laughed low and filthy and ground harder. “Yeah, you’re a dirty little girl, aren’t you?” The ridge of his quad dragged over my clit again, digging the seam of my jeans against the swollen bundle of nerves pulling a gasp from me. He did it again until my knees buckled. Only his body pinning me to the alley wall kept me upright.
His hand left my mouth and fisted in my wet hair, yanking my head slightly back and to the side until my throat was bared. My scalp burned like fire, and the pain aroused me more. Tears mixed with the downpour instantly.
“Say it,” he snarled against my ear, breathing heavily through the mask. “Tell me you’ve been fingering this sloppy pussy every night dreaming of a stranger’s cock splitting you raw in the dark.”
I sobbed, shaking my head and squeezing my eyes shut, but the word tore out of me anyway, cracked and ruined. “Please…”
He tightened his hand in my hair. I opened my eyes to see him pushing the bottom of the mask up. I felt his teeth sinking deep breaking skin. Warm fluid trailed down my neck, and I knew my blood bloomed hot under his tongue. The pain arrowed straight to my clit like a lightning strike.
“Please don’t,” I gasped, but there was no real heat behind my words.
He licked the bite slowly as if he were savoring the copper tang he’d created. And bit again. Harder.
“Please don’t stop,” I whispered, hating myself for loving the shame that burned through me.
His guttural growl of approval vibrated against my throat. He spun me and pressed my chest into the brick. My cheek scraped rough mortar, breasts crushed painfully. I was helpless as he worked my jeans down to my ankles. Cold air kissed my thighs, and I grew hotter.
My panties, black lace, were ripped down to mid-thigh in one savage yank. The elastic snapped against my skin, stinging.
Rain lashed my bare ass sliding down over my exposed cunt. I heard his zipper and the wet slap of a massive cock being freed. Despite the onslaught of noise all around me, I heard the slick sound of his fist pumping over his dick. It was obscene. It was hot.
He slapped his cock on my ass, spreading pre-cum over my skin. I tried to brace, palms flat on the wall, but there was no preparation for what came next.
My voice was locked in my throat when his blunt, scalding crown nudged my entrance, and parted my folds. He drove forward, one merciless thrust that buried every inch in a single stroke.
I screamed and rose on my toes. The sound ricocheted off the brick, raw and animalistic. He was too big, too thick, the stretch a white-hot burn that blurred the line between agony and ecstasy.
