Page 101 of Shattered In Darkness

He pushes my legs wider around his hips, knees stretched, cunt bare and dripping, soaking down my thighs. He watches every twitch, every silent shudder. My brain is gone. My body takes over. He shoves two fingers in my mouth, making me gag. Slobber drips down my chin. He loves it. His cock hammers into me. My body clings to him, shaking, wet, hot. The skull mask stares down into me. That’s all there is. That face and the darkness and his dick breaking me open. He hisses in my ear. “You feel that? That’s mine. All this mess, all this sweet cunt, it belongs to me.”

His cock pounds deeper. I choke on every thrust. Any second I might explode, but somehow I don’t. He holds my jaw open, thumb splitting my lips. It burns. My tits ache from the roughness. My nipples go hard as stone.

Brody starts to groan. It sounds like hate. Or hunger. My hips try to run but he just fucks me harder, pins me up until my heels float. The only thing real is his body controlling mine. On and on. My pussy grabs at him. The wet is cascading. I can feel his cock bulging inside, pushing the air out of my lungs.

He moves me how he wants. Bent over. Legs spread. Pussy leaking. It’s sick. It’s so good I want to scream, but I won’t give him the satisfaction. He already owns every sound I make.

Brody’s hand fists in my hair. He yanks my head back. “Fucking slut,” he says. “You squeeze me so good. Fucking helpless and bent over. Just for me.”

He grabs both my hips. I drop my hands to the wood, braced. I tremble, my whole is body burning. He fucks harder, holding nothing back. Each time he bottoms out, I feel my cunt clench so hard I nearly black out.

He fingers my clit, fast, hard, just to fuck with me. Almost enough, then he stops. My body bucks, desperate. He laughs.

He drags it out, taunting me. “Want to come, don’t you?” His words are hate. “You want to cream all over my dick. Not tonight. You don’t get that until I say.”

I force myself not to beg. He fucks me deeper. His grip is cruel, fingers digging into my flesh. He uses me. Over and over. Sweat breaks out all over my neck and chest. My knees buckle, but he doesn’t stop.

He slaps my ass. “Take it. Fucking take it.”

I bite my lip to muffle the noise, but it still comes out broken. Every thrust. Every endless, thick inch. He wants to break me, make me beg, but I won’t give in.

He leans in. “You ever let another man touch you? You’d never walk again. I’d ruin you. You hear me?”

I nod, silent. He fucks me so hard the wall shakes. He drives his cock deep. My pussy pulses shame and heat, clinging, desperate. He holds me by the hips, spreads me wide, pounds in from behind. The slap of skin on skin is filthy, echoing in the dark, drowning out the storm outside.

He’s relentless. Short, brutal thrusts. Every slam sets my tits swinging, my jaw scraping the glass. He grunts, the skull mask leering down on me. “You feel that? How deep I am? How fucking wet you get when I break you?”

I whimper. Wetness drips down my thighs, pooling on the floor. I can’t hide it.

His hand slides down, finds my throat, squeezes. I choke, my vision sparking. His cock thrusts harder. “You like this. You need it. You need my cock splitting you open, don’t you?”

“Yes.” The word is a gasp. Nothing but need. I hate myself for it.

He drags his fingers between my legs, finds my clit. Rubs circles again, rough, fast, cruel. My body bucks. He growls, “You come without permission, I’ll leave you here, dripping for me. Begging.”

I shake, tears tracking down my cheeks. I’m so close I could scream. My cunt milks him, muscles fluttering, desperate for release. He pulls back, lets his cock slide almost out, then slams back in. My whole body jolts.

“Say it, Bambi. Say you’re mine.”

“I’m yours.”

He spanks me. The sound cracks the air. My pussy clenches so hard I nearly come. “Louder.”

“I’m yours. Please, Brody, I’m yours.”

He groans, hips snapping faster, cock punching deep inside.

I sob, fingers clawing at the glass. My knees threaten to fold. He doesn’t let me. His hands are everywhere—fisting my hair, squeezing my throat, smashing my hips back to meet every thrust.

He drops his hand to my clit. Circles. Pinches. I scream.

“Beg for it, Bambi. Beg to come.”

“Please.” I’m shaking, tears and spit everywhere. “Please let me come. I need it. Please, Brody.”

He growls, deep and filthy, “You want to cream on my cock? Show me. Fucking show me.”

He keeps rubbing my clit, brutal, never letting up. My body convulses. Pleasure explodes. My pussy clamps down, pulsing, choking his dick. I scream, sob, shake so hard I nearly collapse. He doesn’t stop. He fucks me through it, dragging every last spasm out of me until I’m nothing but wet, ruined heat.