I should say something to Brawley, tell him I’m no one’s fucking pet. But at that moment, Clay sinks his teeth into the side of my neck, and I moan at the delicious pain. Then he releases my flesh and grits out, “I’m going to fuck you and leave you here.”
There is a flaw in his plan—handcuffed to Vero, there’s no way I will stay out here all night.
“You locked me out and you fucked her.” Clearly the big guy is still hung up on that.
“It was good. Her pussy is filled with my cum and now Clay’s cock is about to be coated in me.”
Brawley goes eerily quiet, and Clay’s hand slides out from under my waistband long enough for him to shove my pants down roughly. The denim catches on my thighs before dropping lower, and as the night air hits my skin, a shiver runs up my spine. His hand returns to my hip, fingers digging into the soft flesh there briefly before he releases me to cup my pussy.
“You’re soaked,” he mutters.
“Shocking.”
I can’t see his face, but I can feel the moment he clenches his jaw.
Above us, Vero gasps suddenly. “Fuck, Brawley!”
“Shut up.”
“I can’t actually shut up right now.”
Another sound tears out of him, and I glance upwards just enough to see his arm stretched over the edge of the grave and his fingers clawing into the dirt.
“Oh, fuck yes,” he whines.
Clay drags me against him again, snapping my attention onto him. “Focus,” he mutters.
“On what?”
“Me.” His hand disappears, and his breath brushes the edge of my jaw to the subtle sounds of fabric shifting behind me.
Overhead, Vero lets out a breathless laugh.
“You are enjoying this way too much,” Brawley snaps.
Clay presses me harder into the dirt wall, mouth tickling the shell of my ear as he leans in close. “Do you hear how much Vero is enjoying himself?” he whispers.
I don’t answer him before his cock presses against my pussy and he thrusts inside.
My eyes roll to the back of my head, and Clay laughs. “This is not for your pleasure.”
His hands grab at my hips and he yanks me backward as he bottoms out. He doesn’t start slow; he fucks me brutally againstthe dirt wall of the grave. My face smashes into the soil so hard I close my eyes and mouth to avoid having them filled with dirt.
I moan with each thrust as his cock stretches me, and fuck, he is thick. One of his hands leaves my hip, and he snakes it around my neck and squeezes. Not a light little squeeze someone does when making sure they don’t kill you; this is done with no care.
Panic sets in.
My brain separates it from a fun sex kink to: “Oh shit, you’re going to die.” Using my free hand, I try to pry his fingers away, but he only thrusts harder. Spots dance before my eyes, and they flutter closed. In the darkness, I hear him groan his release.
I gasp for breath as I feel cool air on my neck, and it finally trickles down my throat, the black swirls of unconsciousness slowly fading as oxygen returns to my system. I only realize he has stepped back when my lungs have enough air in them again, and I turn to glare at him, but he simply smirks at me as I use my uncuffed hand to pull my pants up.
“Fuck you,” I snarl.
He takes a few steps toward me, and his arms cage me in, palms pressing flat against the dirt behind me. “Next time leave my name off the fucking list. If you mess with Jess again, I will fucking kill you. That was just a taste of what death feels like.”
He is so close my breasts press against his chest, so I bring my head forward quickly and headbutt him.
“Fuck!” he shouts, pushing himself back, though his arm flies out to catch my neck in a chokehold again. “You think I’m afraid to kill you? Stop fucking pushing me.”
