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“I said, lower your pants. Don’t try me bitch.” He pushed on the gun, forcing my head back with the pressure.
My chest tightened as I did as he asked, stepping free of them.
His grin widened as he used his free hand to unzip himself. I cringed as his cock sprang free.
I gritted my teeth and tried to hold it together, but knowing what was about to come, had my entire body in flight or fight mode. With neither of those options available, I clenched my muscles to stop from shaking. I couldn’t stop this, not with a gun in my face, but I could do it without giving him the satisfaction of showing him fear.
“On your knees, bitch.”
Once again, I complied, feeling the cold of the concrete floor pressing against my knees. I tried to concentrate on that, rather than Luke’s cock in my face or the gun between my eyes. “Open,” he demanded. I pressed my lips tightly together and looked up into his eyes. If he was going to make me do this, he was going to have to see defiance in my expression.
“Open your fucking smart mouth, Bou. Now, so I don’t have to mess up those pretty lips.”
This time I didn’t comply. I glared at him resolutely and clamped my teeth together.
He reared back and brought the butt of the gun forward. Pain exploded in my temple then on the front of my mouth. I opened my jaw to cry out, giving him the opportunity to shove the muzzle inside my mouth.
The cold metal of the gun tasted dirty with a hint of oil which made me retch. He stepped back and gave a maniacal laugh. He grabbed my wrist and dragged me to my workbench. With almost no effort he lifted me onto it and pulled my hips to the edge. I kept my eyes on the gun as I let my fingers trail the workbench. They gripped the handle of a wrench. With all the force I could muster, I brought it down to his skull. With lightning reflexes, he caught it seconds before impact.
“Nice try, bitch, but I don’t think I need a wrench for what I’m about to do to you.” He wrestled it out of my hand and let it drop to the floor with a loud clang that reverberated round the shop. “This will come in very handy though.” He held up a knife that I didn’t recognize. It was probably one he’d brought with him. With a flick of his wrist, he sliced through my panties at both sides, then pulled the wrecked garment from between my legs.
With one hand he forced the gun back into my mouth and with the other, he pushed one leg painfully high, his fingers digging deep into my thigh. He clumsily rested my calf on his shoulder then fisted his cock and with a single stroke, shoved it inside, forcing my pussy to open against its will—against my will. I felt myself rip. Blood rushed out between my legs at the force he used.
“After I’m done riding your pussy, Bou, I’m going to see what your nice little tight asshole has to offer.” He groaned, and then he pounded into me, blood my only lube.
Tears streamed. I wanted to scream, but with the gun’s muzzle filling my mouth, I couldn’t get any sound out. I trembled as I looked into his eyes that showed almost no iris for the dilation of the pupils. I inhaled and exhaled slowly through my nose and clamped my eyes shut, willing my body to relax and just accept this until it was over. He grunted time after time above me. His pounding grew quicker and quicker.
A loud click sounded out.
My eyes flew open, worried that he was about to pull the trigger.
I cried out as a whip-like snap pierced the air.
Everything happened in slow motion: Luke’s gun left my mouth, his cock left my battered pussy, and he fell awkwardly to the floor.
My mind spiraled as I tried to make sense of the situation.
Wilde—naked and wet—rushed over.
I pulled my knees into my chest and curled into a ball, trying to make myself as small as possible as my chest pounded and tears rolled down my face.
Strong, damp arms gathered me up. I should have been afraid, but I wasn’t. Not anymore. Wilde was tender. He smoothed my hair back and searched my eyes, his brows drawn tightly together. I tried to say something but couldn’t get my mouth to work past my chattering teeth. I held on to his neck with all my remaining strength. My vision darkened at the edges, the night closing in around his face until there was nothing left but blackness.
18
Wilde
“Bou?” I tapped her cheek lightly. “Stay with me, Bou.”
Her head lolled and dropped onto my shoulder.
“Fuck.”
I scanned the counters for her phone. Nothing.
After I’d loaded that scum bag’s head with lead, I’d rounded a bike to get to where that motherfucker had been balls deep and grunting like a pig with his motherfucking gun in Bou’s beautiful mouth. Now, with her in my arms, I had to step over the body. For good measure, I hauled back and kicked him in the ribs, hearing a crack as the cast connected. He didn’t move. Dead. Good.
My mind raced. I didn’t have any medical fucking-know-how. I needed Doc. If my cast hadn’t been in the way, I would have put her in front of me on my bike and rode for help. But then there was the other problem of not knowing where to find Doc. I groaned with frustration.
