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His hand moves from back to front, sliding between my bare thighs and cupping my pussy over my panties. He keeps kissing my neck, and I groan, my nipples hardening. I’m not wearing a bra today, as my sundress is smocked at the top, and the folds of the material hide my bust. It’s a mistake. Paxton slips one strap of my sundress down and ducks his head farther to suck one of my pebbled nipples into his mouth. I push my hips against his hand, rocking back and forth, building the pleasure. His hot mouth feels incredible and, despite myself, I find my fingers in his soft hair.
Fuck, no. This is not how this is supposed to go.
He rubs the outside of my panties, and I know he can feel the dampness there.
He smiles against my breast, knowing he’s winning.
With a start, I yank myself out of the reverie he’s caused and pull away. “No, Paxton. I said this isn’t what I want.”
His expression hardens. “Don’t fuck around with me, Mackenzie. I mean it. I’m not into playing your stupid little games.”
“I’m not playing games,” I insist. “I’m trying to break up with you.”
“And I’m telling you that you’re making a mistake. You’re not breaking up with me, Mackenzie. You’re mine. Your ass is mine, your mouth is mine, your pussy is mine. Got it?”
He yanks me back into him and covers my lips with his. There’s no more teasing—he kisses me hard, claiming me, pushing his tongue forcefully into my mouth. My heart beats faster, but for all the wrong reasons, and the first flutters of genuine fear dance inside me.
His hand is back between my thighs, and instead of rubbing me over my underwear, he yanks it to one side and pushes his fingers inside me. It hurts, and I let out a cry, but it’s swallowed between his lips.
I’m tall, but I’m also slight, and he’s so much bigger and stronger. I bash at his shoulder with my fist and try to pull away, but his other hand clamps around the back of my head, pinning me in place while he thrusts his fingers inside me over and over. He’s rough, but then I’ve always liked it that way, and I can feel that I’m wet. He releases the back of my head long enough to open the buckle of his belt and free his cock.
“No, Paxton. Please, stop.”
But he’s got no intension of stopping.
His fingers are an invasion.
“I’m going to make you come, baby,” he says, breathing hard. “I’m going to make you come so hard that you’ll never find anyone to replace me. Do you understand?”
He uses the heel of his hand to apply pressure to my clit. I hate the sensation of my climax building inside me. Does he think I want this? Haven’t I said no enough? My pussy walls clamp around him as he fingerfucks me.
He grabs my hand and wraps it around his dick. “Touch me. I need your hand on me.”
I try to snatch my hand away, but he covers it with his, using both our hands to masturbate himself. My breast is still exposed, my tits shaking with every move.
“That’s right, my beautiful girl. You feel so good, baby. I want to be inside you.”
He uses the size of his body to push me backward. The backs of my thighs hit the bed, and then I’m lying on my back on the mattress, him on top of me. His knee forces my legs apart, and he positions himself between them.
“Please, stop,” I sob.
“You don’t mean that. You know neither of us can live without this.”
He rips away my thong, tearing the material, cutting into my skin. Then he tosses it to one side. I can hardly believe it. He’s going to do it; he’s actually going to do this. Does he think there’s any way back from this? I always knew he was controlling and dominant, but I never believed he’d stoop as low as raping me.
He jams himself between my thighs, his fingers on my clit, rubbing and rubbing, as though the stimulation is somehow going to make this any better. I’m not even responding physically now as fear has turned my body to ice. I want to close my eyes, to take myself somewhere else, to pretend this isn’t happening, or that it’s happening to someone else, but I can’t.
I’m right here, living every second, experiencing every moment.
His breath is hot in my ear.
“Fuck, Mackenzie,” he says as he positions himself at my entrance. “You know I’ll never let you leave. You’re mine, all mine. I don’t give a fuck what you say. I need this pussy. This pussy is mine forever.”
His hand wraps around my throat, and sheer terror takes over. I’m no longer thinking, only reacting. Will he kill me? Choke me and take it too far? I can’t bear him on me another moment.
He squeezes my throat harder, and panic steals all reason, until only instinct, that pure, animalistic need for survival, remains.
Tears trickle from the sides of my eyes. Blindly, I reach out, fingers scrabbling along the bedside table, knocking over the contents, scraping the wood. My fingers find the notebook and pen I’d been using to do my college coursework only an hour earlier, sitting on the bed and trying to drum up the courage to have this conversation with him. It’s a favorite notebook, I think distantly, a yellow one with bees on the cover. I like to collect notebooks.
