My thighs squeeze together, trapping him, a burst of friction making my centre throb, and even as I fight, a traitorous voice issues reminders in my head. The banter beside my locker. My attraction after the support group, when only thoughts of Chelsea acted as a brake.
It’s coercion. He wants you to believe it’s your fault.
“You can’t,” I choke out. Grasping for my last excuse. “Not today. I’m on my period.”
Damien laughs, and the sound reverberates against my neck as he nuzzles closer. “Do you think the prospect of my cock coated in blood like I’m taking your virginity worries me?” A groan of satisfaction buzzes my ear. “That sounds fucking perfect.”
His mouth latches onto the tender curve between my neck and shoulder, first sucking, then applying pressure, his teeth sinking into my skin. Hard enough to bruise. Hard enough to make me whimper.
“No.” I shove against him, feet scrambling for purchase on the leather seat. “I’m wearing a cup. You can’t—”
His hand clamps over my mouth. Panic squeezes my lungs while his fingers slip inside my panties and caress along my seam, each stroke sliding deeper until I’m shamefully wet, then pushing fully inside me.
His probing fingers pinch the base of the menstrual cup until the seal breaks. He drags it free, spilling its contents onto the grimy concrete before tossing it over the Perspex barrier. “Bombs away.”
I cry out, humiliation burning hotter than his violation. My senses overload with the leather smell of the seats, his cologne, the metallic scent of blood.
“Look at that perfect little cunt,” he growls. “One day soon, I’m going to suck that gorgeous pussy until you’re screaming my name, but right now, I can’t wait a moment longer.”
He guides his huge cock to my entrance and pushes inside, stretching until I’m full, then filling me more.
“Fuck, Snowflake. You feel so good, it’s obscene.” He shifts his weight, bracing against the seat as he withdraws, then thrusts his full length back inside me. Swallowing my screams as his mouth again devours mine.
When his lips tear away, his eyes fix where his cock pumps inside me. He spreads my thighs wider, fingertips sinking into soft flesh as his stroke grows faster, harder, his pace growing relentless.
Pressure builds with each thrust, his ragged breathing and whispered obscenities hot against my ear, twisting through my brain and heightening every sensation.
His fingers work at my blouse, and the buttons fall open. Cool air hits my skin, and he drags my bra strap to the side, his mouth fixing to the tender skin beneath until he flips down the cups, capturing my nipple, igniting a matching pull deep in my belly.
Urgent. Hungry.
A traitorous heat fills my core and won’t stop spreading.No, not this. Not for him.But my body doesn’t care, growing heavy and warm until I’m throbbing in all the wrong places, my nails carving stripes into his back.
“Such pretty little tits,” he says in wonder and the words snake inside me, wriggling and squirming, leaving a searing trail wherever they go.
My world turns to friction and sweat and the rough slap of his flesh against mine. Helpless as he slams into me, again, again, again, fighting the pleasure that builds in my core.
Then he thrusts deeper, holding the position while his cock twitches, pulses of his release shooting high inside me. He collapses onto me, momentarily boneless, smothering me in his muscled flesh. The scent of musk and cologne are overwhelming until he rolls aside with a satisfied groan.
I feel like I’ve taken a battering ram. Blouse half undone, bra twisted, strands of hair hanging lank around my face.
Damien props himself on his elbow, running a finger down my cheek, and he doesn’t show any disappointment at my disarray, just the hint of a smile.
His gaze drops lower, where thick liquid spills onto my inner thighs. My face twists at the sensation, and he laughs, dropping into the footwell, stroking his fingers against my wet thighs, then bending to plant a kiss.
I try to sit up, and he pushes me flat again.
“You’re mine, remember? If I want to watch my cum dripping out ofmypussy, then I will.”
“You didn’t use protection.”
Damien chuckles, his hot breath blowing against my centre, making me ache. “There’s a lot we can do this month, but having a baby isn’t one of them, and I’m clean.” His laughter deepens, vibrating against my skin. “Guess I’ll find out later if you are too.”
Something catches in the back of my throat and I close my eyes, waiting for him to tire of the view.
The gentle pressure of his combing fingers tickle… then morphs, making me clench, horrified by another betrayal.
And perhaps he senses it, asking, “Did you enjoy yourself?”
