Page 21 of The Price Of Possession

He quietly digs out a key from his pocket and unlocks the padlock with a metallic clank. It clicks open, promising freedom. Instantly, I try to bolt past him, but he's faster, bigger, stronger—plus I'm chained. His hand fans out, grabbing at my loose blonde strands. He proceeds to drag me back to the pile of blankets as if I weigh absolutely nothing.

The cold concrete floor shocks my system. He tosses me carelessly back on the mattress. My naked body bounces a few times before he straddles me, pinning me under his massive amount of muscle. My hands reach out to scratch at him, to mark his pretty, smug tattooed face. He uses brute force to pin my wrists on either side of me. Excitement shouldn't rush through me, but shamelessly, it does.

“Let's get one thing straight, Nightshade.” He pulls my shackles together so he can hold them with one hand. My wrists are pinned together. Then he leans in; his hot breath warms my cheek. “Your tears, your cries, your surrender. All of it belongs to me. I will fucking destroy you from the inside out just to take every shred of happiness for my own. I will fuck you like the doll you are. Your mind, your body and your inner being will remember my cock until your last breath.”

And now, I'm the one speechless.

My adrenaline has worn out. My body goes limp, and I let him take what he wants. It's always been easier than fighting. At some point that fight runs out, and the lacerating doubts creep back into place. Keeping that positive mind set tests my resolve. Can I be strong?

His free hand unzips his jeans. He whips his belt out from the loops. I don't struggle. He tsks, cocking his head. “Are you so easily broken?” He laughs darkly. His pierced tongue darts out, tasting my lips. His vision skirts over my scars. The scars he inflicted. Admiration fills him.

He frees his cock, leaving his jeans on. He grunts and pushes into me without any foreplay. His cock stretches my insides with his forceful intrusion, making me hiss out in pain. His free hand slides between where we are joined. He pinches my still sore clit, making me howl louder. He's clearly not worried about anyone hearing our debauchery.

My screams encourage him to drill into me roughly; his bruising pace is punishing. I make the mistake of getting a glimpse of the man behind the mask. His inky eyes are drilling into me through the darkness, stealing a piece of me with each thrust. Again, he forces me to be conscious and coherent. All I want is to hide behind the numbness. He has my entire body shivering in fear at the reminder of who I am. For the first time, he gives me rough circles on my clit, offering me pleasure with the torment. The feeling builds. It's almost . . . enjoyable.

Each thrust he tears me down. What's worse, is I think I like his callous disregard for me more than the use of drugs. It's almost as good as being numb completely.

My clit throbs with each stroke. The feeling rises within me and I turn needy.

Fight the pleasure, Clara, you don't deserve it.

A stray tear stings against my eye. A knot forms in my throat. “Please…” I breathe, and instantly I feel disgusted with myself. Bile threatens to expel me from within. You're begging like a whore, Clara.

His grin widens. He drops his hand from my shackles, offering me a semblance of freedom. Maybe this is another illusion. Is he testing me? His hand reaches for my nipples, pinching them between his fingers. The sharp pain radiates through me. My eyes skirt over his sweat soaked clothes. It clings against his body like a second skin. My core throbs like a treacherous traitor. I'm dying to see the man underneath. He's never fucked me without clothes.

I wiggle and instantly reach for the hem of his T-shirt. Before I can register what's happening, a slap prickles my breast. Not hard, but enough to be a warning. And yet, somehow it lights something within me. I teeter over the edge of bliss. I come hard, clamping on his cock harder than I ever have. My body reels with every emotion as pleasure pours out of me. It filters through my body like an electrical current. Shame immediately falls over me.

His body cloaks me in warmth as he leans down with a mirthless simper. His pierced tongue feels like sandpaper along my cheek. He's hiding from something, but he can't fool me with his cruel intentions. I refuse to relent. I shove at his oversized body. If he wants to break me, I'll let him, but at the expense of him revealing his skeletons. An eye for an eye.

His rhythm becomes sloppy and shaky. He's close to release but suddenly stops, denying himself. He pulls himself free and staggers back, shuffling along the cold, concrete floor. He looks wild, like an untamed animal. His ringlet curls stick to his forehead. Sweat kisses his skin in the moonlight. His chest rises and falls in chaotic waves like an animalistic beast frothing at the mouth. He stares at me with a forged expression of pure voracious scrutiny. He tucks his hard, weeping cock back into his jeans.

“Clara.” My name leaves his lips like a mocking threat. “Do you like to play with fire, Nightshade?” An evil grin falls over his lips and I know I'm in the clutches of Satan himself.

She shuffles backward on her knees away from me. I close in, my Chelsea boots thud on the concrete floor. Her backside kisses the stonework. She has nowhere to go. Her stray, shackled wrist reaches for my clothes again. I slap her hard across the face. No one touches me. Ever. My scars are unsightly, and I refuse to be seen as a brittle shell who's weak. I control the situation. I set the pace. My cock grows even harder in the confines of my jeans. Edging myself wasn't my intention, but here we are.

The slap echoes through the room. She sinks into the concrete, bracing herself with her hands. The metal of her shackles clink. I know I've pushed her hard in the last twenty-four hours, but I don't give a damn. This is the only way. In a sense, I'm protecting her. She should be thanking me, on her knees, with my cock in her mouth.

What a great idea in fact.

“Open,” I demand, unrepentant.

Her blue pools gaze up at me, and it shakes my core. Her jaw instantly widens without a fight. I almost wish she would, if only so I could punish her. I want her tears, her sorrow, her destruction. She could use a sharp hand on her backside. I could spank her until she begs me to stop. Even then I wouldn't. Not until her ass has blisters. I pull myself back to now, concentrating on her pink tongue. I decide to fuck with her a bit. “You hungry, sweetheart?” I ask, stroking my cock lazily through my jeans. Her eyes follow my shifty movements. She hasn't eaten, I know she's salivating. I bend to the side and unwrap a piece of chocolate from the pile of snacks I left for her.

Her eyes knit in confusion. She snaps her jaw shut and reaches for the chocolate. I hold it just out of her reach.

“Nah, I'll feed you. Close your eyes and open wide.”

She looks at me as if I'm insane, blinking a few times before closing her eyes. Oh, if only you knew the depth of my depravity. I take a bite of the chocolate, letting it melt in my mouth. When she does, I baby bird the chocolate into her waiting orifice.

Her eyes fly open. She lets it pool on her tongue for a moment before she swallows it, all while holding eye contact. The way she stares into my soul is unnerving. I grind my molars as my cock kicks forward in my jeans. God fucking damnit.

If she's going to be such a seductress, I might as well use it to my advantage, because I obviously can't stay the hell away from this challenging siren. She pushes me in ways I'm not used to. I love when she obeys, but I love it more when she fights me.

Any other bitch I fuck while they're passed out or better yet, not coherent at all. Something about the way she fights me has me sober. This is the second time I've played with her sober.

“Open your mouth.”

My jeans are still undone, hung low on my hips. I tug my still hard cock free, needing to cum. I paint her lips and tongue with pre-cum with the left-over remnants of her cunt juices. I want her body drenched in my scent. Marked for dissolution. It's fucked up, but I give zero shits. Her eyes are hollow, and I want to blow my load right then and there.