Oxygen rushes back into my lungs as I sit up and rub my sore neck. What the hell just happened, and why did I like it so much? Unmoving, I gulp down breaths. My sleep shorts are halfway down my sticky thighs.
Why did his punishing grip on my neck and his breathy growl turn me to putty? Sex isn’t supposed to hurt. Even so, the more pain he forced on me, the higher I became, and the more I’mnow craving his brand of pleasure, as twisted as it is. One thing is for sure, Dominic doesn’t simply fuck—he devours. He’s a deadly storm that tears through the soul like a twister and leaves nothing but rubble behind.
Reaching between my legs, I slide my fingers through my wetness. I’m soaked. Dominic wreaked havoc on my body with his expert touch.
I lie back down on my front, trying to recreate the scene from minutes earlier with my face buried in the pillow. My muffled moans ring out in the silence as I rub my clit and grind my hips. But I can’t recreate his touch, no matter how deep I press my face into the damp fabric or how hard I push down on my sensitive clit. Even my best attempts lack the sensation of helplessness and the bite of pain his fingers evoked?—
My thoughts come to a grinding halt when the mattress shifts behind me. I pause, barely daring to breathe. “Dominic?”
An icy chill in the air accompanies his punishing fingers. He digs them into my hips and yanks me up on my knees. Did he change his mind and return to finish what he started? My heart soars even as I fight the urge to beg him to fuck me. I need him inside me.
I try to look at him over my shoulder, but he shoves my head back into the pillow and rams his cock inside me in one go. I cry out as my pussy clamps down on his throbbing length. Fuck, he feels so damn good. Nothing could have prepared me for how big he is. I can barely fit him, but he allows me no time to adjust. He pulls back out to the tip, then thrusts back in, and delicious pain spreads like wildfire. He fucks like an animal, dirty and hard—so hard I’m unsure if he’s trying to fuck me to death, but I love every second.
“Fuck, Dominic,” I whimper, the sound muffled as I push back against him. My eyes roll back at the feel of his thick cock rubbing against my rippling inner walls while mindless moansand mewls escape my chest. I sound like I’m starring in a cheap porno. I’m not even embarrassed anymore. Not when he fucks me this good.
My tits bob wildly as my sensitive, pebbled nipples rub against the bed. The extra friction, combined with another hard slap on my ass, has me exploding around his dick with a scream.
I’m still floating in a sea of bliss when a distorted voice that isn’t Dominic’s snarls, “Such a good little whore.”
I freeze and terror locks me in place as strings of cum rain over my ass and back. Spinning around, I swing my gaze around the empty room. There’s no one here. Just me, my erratic heartbeat, and the fucking doll propped at the end of my bed.
As I blink at the beady eyes and the crack in the cheek, shivers slither over my skin. I skim my hand over my ass but find no semen. My skin is dry. With a gulp, I look at the doll. And then I scratch my arm, unable to shake the terror crawling under my skin. A burning, sharp pain anchors me as my jagged nails claw a path through my skin, over and over and fucking over.
I scramble forward and snatch the doll, only to realize that my shorts are halfway down my legs. With a quick tug, I pull them back up and storm out of my room, racing downstairs to toss the doll in the trash can. My heart pounds powerfully as I stare at the kitchen cupboard beneath the sink?—
Something outside the window catches my eye—a mysterious man I’ve seen a lot recently. I watch him enter the woods with the axe on his shoulder and a determined look on his face.
Where is he going? Intrigue wins out.
I don’t even think as I rush into the hallway to put on my shoes before dashing outside. The heat is pressing from all angles and my rubber soles thunder across the overgrown yard.
Silence sweeps in as I enter the trees, suffocating even the faintest sounds. It’s a peaceful feeling, and I let my fingers grazethe rough bark and the slimy mushrooms that grow on the trunks.
Venturing deeper into the woods, I cross a small stream of water when I hear his axe up ahead. Excitement curls my lips as I trudge forward, ducking beneath branches and moving others out of the way until I emerge into the clearing.
Where is he?
A frown mars my forehead. I scan the stacked pieces of chopped wood and the axe propped against the stump. Fragile sticks break underfoot and pinecones sink into the soft earth when I walk forward.
I stop in front of the waist-high stump and trail my fingers over the wood block on top, noting each ridge and groove. Curious, I pick up the axe, studying an interesting carved symbol on the handle as I feel its weight in my hand. It’s much heavier than I thought, and I struggle to lift it over my head. When I swing it down, I miss the wood block. The blade gets lodged. It’s proving even more difficult to yank it out. I try three times before it finally gives?—
“I thought I told you not to wander into the woods.” His heat at my back makes my breath catch. He places his big hand over mine on the handle and says, “Put one hand here and the other up here. It will improve your aim.”
Barely able to breathe, feeling like I’ve been caught doing something I shouldn’t, and loving the thrill, I let him show me how to chop correctly. I swallow down my nerves, acutely aware of how little effort he required to chop the piece in half.
“Now,” he whispers in my ear, his breath teasing the curve of my neck, “what will it take for you to listen to my warning about these woods?”
I still haven’t recovered from Dominic’s treatment this morning. Something about this compromising position with a stranger has heat settling low in my core. I want him to bend meover the stump and fuck me with the axe’s handle. Where are these thoughts coming from? I’m not this promiscuous.
“Dangers lurk in these woods, ma’am.”
“That sounds like a threat,” I state bravely.
He chuckles, replying, “Hear that?”
The wind moves through the canopy of shifting leaves overhead, like a haunted lullaby or a song of woes.
“Hear how it whispers?” His lips brush the shell of my ear, making me shiver. “That’s when you need to run.”
