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Why argue? I want this, and I'll consider the consequences of that need later. Can't focus on anything except his dick and what he'll do to me next.
I lie down on the floor with my arms folded under my head. The position grants me a peripheral view of his naked body.
He kneels over my legs, skimming his hands up and down my thighs. While I moan and squirm, he grasps my ankles and pushes until my knees bend, lifting my ass into the air.
"Please, Dax, please," I moan.
He pushes my knees apart and roughly rubs his hand along my folds. "You will scream my name when I finally let you come."
"I'll scream your name right now if that'll make you do it."
He seizes my wrist and bends my arm behind my back, gripping my hip with his other hand. His hold is solid but also gentle, as if he's taking care not to hurt me. When he punches into my body hard and deep, I let out a sharp cry that echoes inside the building. He pummels my body with punishing thrusts while I teeter on the edge, about to plummet over it, and the second he shifts his hand off my hip to reach down and pinch my clit, I come so hard and fast that I can't scream or move or even breathe. My ears start to ring, and black spots appear in my vision. The orgasm goes on and on, the muscles inside me clenching his cock in fierce waves, though the rest of my body has gone stiff, frozen in the throes of ecstasy.
Dax bellows, thrusting a few more times while I feel his release erupting deep inside me.
While he pulls out of my body, I lie flat on the floor, unable to do anything except struggle to regain my breath. Did that really happen? Did I let a beast of a man use my body for his pleasure? Yeah, I did. I agreed to give myself to him, then begged him to take me without caring what he might do to me. And I loved it. Dax made me feel things I've never experienced before, an intensity of sensations that overwhelmed me. If he ordered me to give in to him again, I'd succumb. Not sure if I can reasonably blame the apocalypse for this. I made the decision to surrender my body and soul to a man who hates me and terrifies me.
Does he still scare me? My wits haven't recovered enough for me to answer that question.
I push up off the floor, my arms quivering slightly, and sit back on my heels.
Dax lies beside me, his entire body slack, his eyes closed and his lips curling into the faintest of smiles. A smug one, naturally.
I punch his arm. "Wake up."
He cracks one lid open. "I am not asleep."
"Good. Then you can answer my question now."
"No."
He shuts his eye and links his hands over his belly. His dick is still semi-firm, but he doesn't seem inclined to take possession of my body again. Can't decide if I want him to do that. I stifle a pathetic moan. Of course I want it. I shouldn't, and I hate that I do, but Dax knows every secret way to stoke my deepest, darkest desires until I'm on fire for him. My willpower can't withstand it.
But I need answers, and he will give them to me now. No more passive Allison. No more cowering Allison either. Maybe it's hormones influencing me, but I don't care. If I can handle sex with a man like Dax, I can absolutely tap into my inner warrior—if nothing else, to make the man lying beside me at last tell me everything.
"I want answers," I say. "No more sidestepping my questions. I let you get your rocks off with my body, so it's time you confessed."
"You let me fuck you so I would defend you from the rampaging horde. No part of our arrangement included an exchange of information."
"Fine. Have it your way." I get up and start hunting for my clothes. My panties are trashed, thanks to him. So I crumple them in my hand and toss them away, then pull on my jeans. "I'll take my chances with the horde."
Yeah, I'm playing a dangerous game. But I have no choice. I need answers from Dax, and he thinks I know more about Sefton than I've told him. I don't, though maybe I can use his belief to get what I want.
Dax springs to his feet and stomps over to me.
I've just done up my bra, and now I'm shrugging into my shirt. Despite the way he's glowering at me, I keep my demeanor casual while I fasten the buttons.
"You are going nowhere," Dax snarls, "unless I tell you so. You wouldn't last five minutes out there."
He wants to goad me into snapping at him, so I do the opposite. I stay silent and calm while I tug my socks on and tie my boots.
Dax grabs my arm. "Have you gone deaf? You are going nowhere."
I shake my arm free of his grip and march toward the door.
"Stop." His barked command resounds through the warehouse. In a softer tone, he adds, "All right, have it your way."
Did he just offer to answer my questions? Since his statement was a tad vague, I turn around to get clarification. "Are you going to tell me everything I want to know?"
