Page 11 of Bent, Not Broken

My mind was a blank for once in my life. My dick twitched with the sharp pleasure that followed the pressure of being filled on my insides. Empty to full of dick in a flash. I scraped my fingers along the door but couldn’t anchor myself to anything. Overwhelming sensations cascaded through me as Slater pulled out and power slammed back inside, almost like he was punching me with his hips. The electric sparks that flew around my stomach and thrummed through my dick as he plowed home, squishing his pelvis hard against my asscheeks, had me gasping in too big a breath, so that my head swam. My thighs quivered. Tingles slid up my spine, and raw, feverish heat pooled low in my belly. How was this so fucking good? My shaft swelled and the head throbbed and pulsed in a way that was fucking amazing.

“You want this?” he asked, and he shifted his body forward like he was trying to knock me through the door. The stretch and burn in my ass balanced in an incredible no-man’s-land between pain and pleasure, building into something scary and fucking hypnotic in my body.

Blindly, I nodded to answer Slater. The brutality of the fucking inspired me to try to push back against him. This wasn’t the mellow half committed faux-lovemaking from a hookup on an app. There was something real, even if it wasn’t nice, in every thrust of his body against mine. My face knocked against the door and pain flashed through my cheekbone, but I didn’t care. I jutted my ass back against him as he ground his hips, reaching so far inside me I thought he might get stuck. Part of me wanted that. The piecemeal thoughts that entered and fled my brain ran rampantly wild and added adrenaline on top of the way he battered at my prostate with his dick. The straining tension of my impending orgasm burned through my body like a forest fire, incinerating everything, leaving no room for the normal background bullshit that usually buzzed in my brain. Slater and the way he fucked me was the only thing in the world.

He pulled me back roughly with his hands on my hips, and I was forced to brace myself on my palms against the door. I had to trust him to keep me upright. I was so unsteady. My heart swooped. He drove himself into me at a steeper angle that completely battered my prostate and had me unable to do anything but tremble. He began fucking me for real then, and all I could do was jerk every time he slid deep into my ass. My dick ached, leaked, and I wanted to touch myself so bad, but I couldn’t. My hands were stuck.

“Did you move me on purpose?” I gasped out.

All I got back was a low, sinister chuckle that had my dick bucking and drooling even more. I growled and squeezed my ass muscles on his dick to milk him, and he slammed into me again. Focusing, I tightened those muscles again, trying to get more of that wonderful fucking pressure on my prostate.

His hips stuttered and he let out an oddly vulnerable whimper before he fucked me faster than ever. My hips burned in a delicious way as he gripped me too hard, and I used real muscle to keep myself in place as he pulled me up onto my tiptoes. I didn’t think he realized he was knocking me so far off-balance, because his body had an animal rhythm, a fuck Zen, that told me he was a million miles away, even if his cock was stretching me to my breaking point. I didn’t care anymore that I couldn’t tug myself. My body contracted with pleasure from the inside out and I twitched and yelled, so fucking close to blowing my load—no handy help required.

“Fuck,” he swore behind me. “Can’t believe I’m about to dump cum in someone like you.” He grunted as he thrust hard against me. “You’re not worth my nut. Should make you fucking wear it instead. Leave you hanging.”

Those words, something no one had ever dared to say to me before, embarrassed me, sending swift heat rushing along my body along with goose bumps. Something about the pure hatred behind the sentiment made my stomach burn hotter. All that emotion directed at me? No one had that much feeling for me, did they? How could anyone care that much about what I did with my life, to hate me so much? The very thought made me feel higher than the fucking pill I’d swallowed earlier.

Or maybe it was the pill making me feel this way, I didn’t know.

My dick gave another throb and I was there. My body strained and sweat ran down my back.

My nipples peaked, and I was oddly fucking aware of the left one as a drop of sweat dripped from it. So close. I held my breath and squeezed my ass around him again, and then cried out, trying to go higher onto my tiptoes, even though I couldn’t.

He lifted me off the ground. I curled the tips of my toes over the top of his feet, but he held my weight and pressed me forward so I had to hold up my end of this weird sex ballet by straining my biceps.

He pounded deep inside me and my arm muscles burned nicely. Sweat dripped off my face when I glanced down and drops already speckled the tiled floor under me. My abdomen clenched up, and I tried to arch more firmly against him. My body trembled and I dug in my toes against the warm skin of his feet. I held my breath. The tension at the base of my cock was so good it got confused with pain in my body, and I wasn’t sure what I should be doing anymore.

I tossed my head back and cried out. “More, close,” I gasped.

“Don’t fucking care,” he said, and proceeded to fuck me like he was in a race and losing. My nuts drew up and spasms rocked me. My dick sprayed cum like I’d never seen before. Dots of pearly, bright white splattered the dark tile under me in a sexy constellation. I had a second to be surprised at the sight, but then the waves hit me. My arms collapsed and I bent forward while I blissfully shook apart, supported only by Slater’s painful grip on my hips.

“Fuck, fuck,” he snarled, and then I was planted firmly onto my feet, still bent double, with my hands slipping in my own mess on the floor. Seconds later he shoved in deep and hard and let out a yell. He stilled. His calf muscles, which were the only part of him I could see clearly, strained. Carefully I straightened, my muscles languid and loose from the workout.

“So good,” I whispered and rested back against him. He pulled out abruptly, and that was awful. It hurt for real. My ass was not ready for it. One moment he was in me, snug and perfect, and then gone. My asshole felt like it gaped for a second, and then my body adjusted, but I had a hollow, empty ache inside. I crossed my arms over my stomach and shivered as my briefs were shoved into my hands. He reached around me and opened the door.

“What—” I started, but he cut me off by planting a hand between my shoulder blades. I gasped. He shoved. My knees were still wobbly, like gummy bears, and I went flying forward. I tripped over the sill on the door and smacked my knees, elbows, and forearms off the porch floor, and my chin kissed the wood, just enough that I felt it burn and scrape.

“There!” he yelled, and my head rang with the angry sound. “That’s what pricks like you get. Do you feel like you won now?” he asked nastily from behind me.

Seconds passed and I started to laugh. I rolled over onto my back and stared up at him, draping my underwear over my still-hard cock. His face, contorted in rage, was sexy as fuck. His lips might be twisted into a shitty smirk, but they’d still been on mine. “Yeah. I do.”

His eyebrow skipped high and his nostrils flared. For a few heartbeats we stared. He stepped back and slammed the door with a gunshot crack. The lock clicked on the inside and I groaned, covering my face with a hand. Even naked, I was still hot, and my mouth felt like a desert. The little sounds of the street—cars, people a few houses down—got me moving. I stood and slipped on my underwear, letting the band snap at my waist. I glared down my mostly naked body and then realized the one thing I couldn’t live without was still inside. I hammered on the door.

“What?” carried outside.

“Well, for someone who doesn’t care, you haven’t gone too far.”

The curse word wasn’t loud enough for me to understand, but the tone was clear.

“Give me my phone or I’ll stand here all night. I know the entire song list of Hamilton, and I’m sure your neighbors would love a solo, a cappella rendition.”

He opened the door just wide enough to toss my phone out, and it sailed by my clumsy hand. I pouted as the iPhone dropped to the porch and there was a horrible crack. The door slammed shut again. The lock clicked again. I guess this was my karma for lying to Greg.

My mood actually took a dive as I picked my phone up. The last thing I wanted to do was get the damned thing fixed, but the screen had spidered. My belly still hummed with postorgiastic bliss, however. I bit my lip and it ached, so I stopped immediately. My entire body felt like one big, perfect bruise. My ass had already begun to twinge, my cheek hurt, my lips seemed swollen from the cock sucking. My chin burned. My hips hurt. My thighs were loose. My arms were wet noodles.

I’d never felt so good and bad at the same time. Was Slater that much of a beast, or were the drugs that awesome? If so, I could become an addict. Good thing I had no idea what I’d taken.

I glanced back at the door and figured it wouldn’t be opening again. He’d made himself clear. He only fucked people once. For maybe the first time ever, the idea of not getting to have another round with a man stung. I tried to shrug it off. He clearly hated me. He thought I was worse than the criminals he arrested, so it was no good being upset. That would be moronic.