“Not so fast you little cunt.” He wraps a handful of my hair in his fist and wrenches me backwards. There’s a sharp stinging on my scalp where some of my hair has been ripped out.
I yelp and fall to the floor, my bare knees scraping against the carpet. If it wasn’t for the music that is still pumping from the speakers, the bodyguard down the hall may have been able to hear me, but it’s loud enough to mask my scream.
I look to one of the men still sat in his chair. “Please,” I beg.
“Hey, man, maybe we should just go,” one of them suggests.
“Shut the fuck up,” Angel guy snarls. “This little bitch is asking for it.”
I crawl across the floor on my hands and knees towards the panic button, but he wrenches me back by my hair once again and grips my face in his hand, pulling me up onto my knees in front of him, bringing his hand down across my face. The sting of his palm connecting with my face radiating through my cheek, the force so hard I can taste blood in my mouth.
Tears form in my eyes and spill down my face. And before I get chance to protest, he forces himself inside my mouth roughly with a groan and begins to thrust,hard. His grip on my head tight so I can’t move.
My gag reflex kicks in as he pushes his dick deep in my throat, hitting the back of my throat with every rough snap of his hips. Hard and fast making it difficult to breathe.
A cry rips through me, tears streaming from the corners of my eyes and I push against him desperately, thrashing against his thighs helplessly, fighting against his harsh grip on my head but it’s no use, because nothing works.
He’s too strong.
So I do the only thing I can think of.
Something that will definitely make him stop.
Something that will hurt.
I bite down.
He roars in pain, the sound vibrating through me. He releases me from his grip as he reels back a few steps, clutching his dick.
I gasp for breath, coughing and spluttering.
“You fucking cunt!” he shouts, before he swings his arm and slaps me hard across the face again, the force hard enough to knock me off my knees and I collapse onto the ground.
Suddenly, he’s on me.
His weight pinning me to the ground as he pulls his hand back, ready to hit me again, but I drive my knee up between his legs as hard as I can and push him away. He rolls off me, collapsing onto the floor beside me and I scramble to my feet, breaking into a run towards the door.
I fly out of the room and slam against the wall of the corridor, my arm across my body to cover my exposed breasts. I'm shaking so violently that I can't catch my breath, so much so that I think I’m having a panic attack.
Through the tears that blur my vision, I can see the bouncer standing at the end of the hallway, but I’m too shaken to form words and shout for help, and from what I can make out, Greg’s not alone, he’s with two other men.
“Quinn?” I know that voice.
“D-Dwight?” I croak out, my voice hoarse and shaky.
What is he doing here?
He runs toward me, his heavy footsteps echoing through the narrow corridor and slams into me, knocking me backwards slightly, as he wraps his arms around my body and holds me, his hand cupping the back of my head, pressing my face into his chest.
I don’t know what he's doing here, and I don’t really care. The questions can wait until later. Right now, I’m just happy that he’s here. I’m in his arms. I’m going to be okay.
I'm safe.
I release a cry and sob against his chest, my whole body trembling.
“What the fuck happened, are you okay?” Dwight asks, bending at the knees so his face is level with mine, brushing that hair that is stuck to my damp face out of the way. “Jesus, your face…”
“I-I am now.” I grip his shirt in my fist and bury my face in his chest.
