Page 25 of Bait

“Please no…” I hiss. “Please stop… stop…”

He yanks the scrap of fabric so hard it tears from my hips. When his fingers force their way inside me there’s three of them at once with no warning.

He’s rough. Fast.

Brutal.

“Your cunt is so fucking tight,” he grunts.

I cry out as he forces his fingers in deeper. My eyes water as he makes me take it.

“I haven’t even fucking started yet,” he tells me, and I know it.

His thumb rolls against my clit. I hear the wetness and I feel so vulnerable I want to die in his arms.

Maybe I will.

He lets go of my wrists and flattens me tighter against the shutters. His fingers slide around my throat and squeeze hard enough to make me rasp.

His mouth is on my neck. His breath is all I can hear.

I don’t know what to do with the freedom he’s just granted my wrists. My arms hang lifeless at my sides until I feel daring enough to touch him. To feel him.

I’ll never know the stranger in the darkness, but my fingers will.

So slowly I reach up behind me, my fingers trail up the back of his neck. Solid.

He’s fucking massive.

My fingertips graze soft hair, shaved sides, then tangle in longer lengths on top. I’d give anything to see him.

I’m grunting as his fingers piston deep, begging him to stop with every breath. I shuffle my legs just a little bit wider, praying he keeps rubbing my clit the way he is right now. Just like that.

But he doesn’t.

I groan as he pulls his fingers away.

He takes hold of my hair and yanks me from the shutters along with him. My heels scrabble against the gravel as I stumble after him.

He pulls me further from the road. We turn a corner at the rear of the building, and I see a row of huge trucks as a security light blinks on in the distance.

I could scream. Part of me wants to.

But I don’t.

He shunts me in front of him as we dip between two trucks. I twist to face him, but I’ve missed my chance to see. It’s dark again. My adrenaline is spiking all over.

And then he pushes me to the ground. I cry out as my knees hit the concrete. I feel them graze as he shoves me forward on all fours. The ground is rough against my palms, but rougher against my face when he forces me flat.

Oh God. Oh my fucking God.

He positions himself behind me, lifts my dress and slides his fingers all the way back in. I know what’s coming when I hear his belt buckle. I panic when I hear the zip of his jeans.

I struggle but go nowhere. My pleads feel thick in my throat as hot fear takes over me.

I feel pitiful.

Sad.

Beautiful.

Happy.

Joyous.

Out of fucking control.

I’m surprised when the tears prick at my eyes. I’m embarrassed how I spread my legs even as the first sobs come.

I flinch as I feel the head of him. He’s too big. Too hard.

“Please…”

And I’m crying as his cock rubs back and forth between my pussy lips. I feel the ridges of metal and know he’s going to fuck me up.

“Please…”

I let out a strange feral sob as he pushes the tip inside.

“This is gonna fucking hurt,” he says.PhoenixIt takes some serious fucking resolve not to slam my cock balls deep into Abigail’s beautifully tight cunt in one thrust, damned be the consequences for me as well as her.

Luckily, resolve is something I’ve long cultivated.

Still, I really do feel like a monster as I deliver the nightmare she begged me for.

She’s a mess on all fours before me, her breath raspy with tears as her whole body trembles. Her adrenaline is off the charts and has been for a while.

But she stays still like a good girl. Like she was born for this.

Maybe she was. Maybe she was right all along and she really does need this. Maybe she always will.

Like Mariana.

Abigail is nothing like Mariana. Mariana was fiery and sensational and easy to read. Mariana liked to hiss and spit and go down hard.

Abigail is a delicate blend of pure fucking crazy. Elegant and dirty and needy and vulnerable.

Insane.

Fucking insane.

And I feel insane right along with her. This lunacy has been a long time coming.

Maybe too long.

Her legs stay nice and wide for me, even though they’re shaking. Her back is arched, her soaking wet pussy offered readily for the brutality she’s convinced is coming her way.

I admire the way she thinks I’m going to tear her apart and she still doesn’t try to run.

I admire the way she’s really all in with this, even though she must be fucking petrified.

“Please…” she whimpers.

I shunt my hips enough to sink the tip, and even though she’s sopping fucking wet, it still takes some force.

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