Page 74 of Not Another Dark Romance

“Stop fighting,” he growls. “You don’t have to pretend. We both know how much you want this.” He snakes his hand around and under me, cupping my dick through my jock. “Mmm, you’re rock hard for me, so who do you think you’re fooling? Did you enjoy the thrill of being chased? Or is it the mask? Or not knowing exactly who’s about to fuck you as long as your hole gets stuffed?”

I shake my head. “No, none of it! Get off of me. I don’t want this!”

He shifts behind me so that he’s no longer grinding against my ass, and I’m able to twist my neck enough to see he’s freed his cock behind me. He groans as he strokes himself a few times before pulling out a lube packet from his pocket.

Oh my god, this is really happening. This masked man is going to fuck me in the middle of the woods. My cock jerks at the thought, and I have to admit, at least to myself, that I want him to.

“You’re just a needy little slut lost in the woods, ready to be filled, aren’t you? You can say no all you want, but your hard cock is contradicting every word that’s coming out of your mouth, Sweetness.”

He grabs my hips, pulling them up as he squeezes lube out right onto my hole before pushing his finger in. Fuck, the stretch as he pushes inside of me feels so good. My heart is still beating erratically, and a part of me is still very afraid of this stranger, but I’m also way too turned on to want this to end. I’ve always enjoyed rough sex, but I also don’t want him to know how much I want it, so I continue fighting back, hoping it’ll inspire him to continue to be rough with me.

“No, please don’t—” My weak protest fades as I cry out as he adds another finger inside of me. I’m trembling now as his fingers pump vigorously, stretching me open, preparing my ass for his thick cock. I continue to wiggle and shout nonsense, but in the back of my mind, I remind myself that peaches is the one word I absolutely won’t say because I am loving this.

His deep voice, distorted by the mask, cuts through my rambling, reminding me of exactly who is behind me as he says, “Shut up, whore.”

My body pulses with spikes of fear that make my cock throb where it’s trapped in my jock. This stranger isn’t playing anymore. This masked monster from the campfire horror stories is real, and he’s completely in control, about to have his way with me.

I’m helpless, utterly at his mercy, and the wave of arousal that crashes over me is so intense it almost hurts. I’m desperate for whatever relief I can find as I hump the wet, cold ground below me. No part of me is cold though. Every nerve ending in my body is on fire, screaming for his touch. And he knows it. He knows that every cry for him to stop has been a lie, he knows every dark, twisted, fucked-up fantasy of mine, and he’s making them come true.

His degrading and filthy taunts have only made me want him more. There’s truth to his words. Before I know it, he’s removing his fingers, and the blunt head of his cock presses against my entrance. My whole body tenses, a final protest against the inevitable.

“I’m going to fuck you now,” he warns, and then he’s entering me in a deep thrust.

A cry tears from my throat, but it’s not in protest. It’s a sound of release, of finally getting to experience what I’ve been craving all night. All my adult life, really.

“Stop,” I call out again because that twisted part of me wants him to keep ignoring my fighting. He obviously doesn’t listen, holding my head on the ground below me as he continues to thrust into me, taking what he wants. He doesn’t give me time to adjust, giving it to me rough, just like I’ve wanted. The burn quickly morphs into pleasure, a deep, overwhelming wave that washes over me again and again with every thrust. I can feel his large body everywhere, inside me, on top of me, surrounding me as he relentlessly fucks me.

“Let me see you,” I request, and he removes his hand from my head. I’m able to twist to look up at him over my shoulder. The mask, the forest, the darkness that’s surrounding us—it’s perfect.

This is what I wanted, what I needed. To be hunted, caught, taken, and completely and utterly owned by the monster of my dreams.

“I knew you’d like this, Sweetness,” he purrs. “You weren’t fooling me trying to escape. You’re as fucked up as I am. Wanting a stranger to hunt you down and fuck you in the woods.”

The filthy words fuel me, and I’m not ready for this to end. I’m enjoying the fight too much to succumb to him yet.

“Get off me!” I snarl, trying to buck my hips, but all it does is make his cock hit deeper inside of me. It’s a useless effort, and I bite back the moan as my struggles only make his dick rub against my prostate. Fuck me, this is so good. Still, I cry out, “You’re insane! I don’t want this!”

He just laughs a dark, rumbling sound that vibrates through my entire body. “Maybe I am. But you’re the one who ran into the woods knowing I’d follow you. You’re the one whose cock is dripping all over the forest floor.” He shifts his weight, reaching between us to wrap a hand around my aching length. I gasp, my body betraying me as I immediately thrust into his grip. “See? You love this.”

“No,” I lie, shaking my head, trying to pull away from his touch. But my hips have a mind of their own, rolling in time with the lazy strokes of his hand. “I don’t… I don’t want you…”

“Liar,” he growls, and then he’s moving again, his hips snapping forward, driving his cock deeper into me than before. The force of it steals my breath, and I cry out, a raw, broken sound. “You’re a liar and a slut. You only ran from me because you wanted to test me. You wanted to make me work for this, to prove how much I want you too. But we both know you wanted to be caught.”

He’s right. Obviously. Every rough thrust, every degrading word, is a key unlocking a more depraved version of me. The part that wants to be used, claimed, marked and owned.

He lets go of my cock, much to my dismay, and grabs my hips, his fingers digging into my flesh hard enough to leave bruises. He pulls me up onto my knees, changing the angle, and the new position has him hitting that perfect spot inside me with every brutal thrust. I can’t think, can’t breathe. I can only feel.

“Is this what you imagined, counselor? Is this what you wanted when you put on this slutty little uniform tonight? For me to recreate your favorite horror film for you?”

I can only moan in response. The world is a blur of sensation—the slap of his skin against mine, the dirt under my knees, the painful pleasure of him pounding into me.

“Answer me,” he commands, his hand coming down hard on my ass. The sharp sting makes me cry out, my body clenching around him. “Is this what you wanted?”

“Yes!” I scream. “Yes, god, yes!”

“Good,” he grunts, his grip on my hips tightening. “Because I’m not done with you yet. I’m going to fuck you until you can’t walk, until you can’t remember your own name. Until all you know is me. The stranger who fucked you in the woods and left you to die.”

Fuck, why is that so hot? I moan as he fucks me with a brutal intensity that borders on violence. It’s too much, and it’s not enough. I want it to last forever. I can feel the pressure building low in my gut, and I’m so close, so fucking close. I just need a little more, a little harder, a little deeper.