I dig my fingers into his shoulders and relax into him. The pain…I remember. When Harrison raped me, it’s all I felt. Panic and pain, helplessness and shame. For a fleeting moment, I’m terrified that’s how sex will feel too. That though I’m not afraid, I won’t like it either.
But then…
“Oh,” I whisper. The pain subsides, shifting into something softer yet stronger. It coils through my insides, building with heat and pleasure and it’s suddenly so good I can’t fully process it. I become a mess of discordant mumbling as he fucks me with steady, slow strokes.
“Better?” he asks gruffly. He shifts, moving his hand from my neck to my skirt. He twists it out of the way and presses his thumb to my clit, massaging in tight circles.
It’s too much. Only now, it’s in the best way imaginable. I don’t remember how to work my mouth, so I communicate with my body. I dig my heels harder into his back, urging him closer. I scrape my nails over his shoulders. I shift my hips, meeting his steady thrusts with my own, clumsier movements.
“I should’ve taken this off,” he mutters.
It takes me a moment to realize he’s talking about my skirt. He’s flipped it out of the way again, exposing my cunt to the cool forest air. His cock pumps in and out, shiny and slick with my arousal.
“Next time,” he says. His words are so mumbled, I’m not sure whether they’re for me. “We’re doing this in my bed. Lights on. I’ll memorize every. Fucking. Piece. Of. You.”
Between each word, he thrusts, gradually pumping harder and faster. I tighten my hold on his shoulders and accept that I can’t keep up. He’s fucking me like an animal, too fast and too skilled for me to contribute. I stare at him, atus, in fascination.
“I’m going to come,” I say. It’s breathless, and I’m not sure he’s heard me at first. I’m still staring where we’re joined, feeling halfway in this world, half in another.
“Look at me, Secora,” he says. “Let me watch you come for me.”
I do as he says, but only barely. The intensity of his dark gaze pushes me over the edge immediately. My eyes roll to the back of my head as he thrusts, so deep I can feel him everywhere. I cry out in pleasure, so lost in euphoria I don’t care how loud I’m being.
Elliot surges forward, capturing my mouth with his. He swallows my sounds, claims them as if they’re his, and his alone.
I’m so consumed by my own pleasure I don’t realize Elliot has pulled out until his hot cum spurts against my thighs and the edges of my skirt. He keeps me held to him, hand under my ass, mouth tracing leisurely kisses along my jaw.
“I’ve made a mess of you,” he says. He takes a ragged breath, nipping the edge of my ear before pulling back. “I should say I’m sorry.”
“Are you?” I ask. I’m dizzy and sated, and I must be a masochist for asking such a terrible question.
“Not even a little,” he says. He rests his forehead against mine, his reddened lips curving into a smile. “I’ll clean you up. And then we’ll do this again. And again. And again.”
“Perhaps in your bed next time?” I ask. I’m trying to tease him, but I’m too breathless to pull it off. I sound wistful. Dreamy. “With the lights on?”
“Everywhere,” he says. His lips brush mine before he pulls back. “We’ll do this everywhere. In every way imaginable.”
“Promise?” I ask. I hate the way my voice dips, the way it weakens.
“I swear it,” he says. “However you’ll have me, Secora, I’m yours.”
23
THE ONLY PLACE
ELLIOT
Four hours later, we’re almost to the Cursed Grounds. We’re high enough that the temperature has dropped and the trees are thicker, hiding us from the sun. Secora is wearing my sleep pants, rolled multiple times at the waist andher ankles. Her ruined tights and messed skirt are folded in my pack. Her underwear is still tucked in my pants pocket, and I’ve decided I’m not giving them back.
I steal a glance at her. She’s a half-step in front of me. She’s slowed immensely since we first started walking, and despite the chill in the air, she’s sweating. She doesn’t exercise much now, but I wonder if she did when we were younger. I wonder if she’d be interested in doing hikes in the future or if she’d scowl at the mere suggestion.
I smile and look back to the trees around us. The forest has never seemed quite as sexual as it does now. Every single tree has potential. I bet I could convince Secora to hike if I promised to fuck her on a new tree each time.
She stumbles over a rock and I touch her elbow to steady her. For all the strangeness we’ve been through these past few weeks, this feels inexplicably natural. The irresistible urge totouch her? Now, I can. I don’t have to think about it. I don’t have to feel guilty. I don’t have to wonder if I’m evil.
Now, I’m thrilled to do it. Pleased to touch her and help her and kick a little more dirt onto Harrison’s metaphorical grave.
Secora offers me a small smile. Then she’s focused again, brow furrowed as she walks up the steep terrain. If it gets any worse, I’m going to demand her bag. She’s going to fall three miles if she trips, and then who am I supposed to christen the forest with?
