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His pace is unrelenting, each movement a searing reminder of his control.
“You’re a liar,” Ash breathes out. “I can feel your cunt squeezing me. It’s soaking fucking wet. You love me raping you, and I want to do this every day for the rest of our fucking lives.”
He bites my lip hard. The sharp pain intensifies the pleasure.
The taste of copper fills my mouth, the bite drawing blood. His savagery thrills me. I can’t help but react, my body complying with his, mirroring his intensity. Yet, I keep fighting, retaliating with an equally savage bite to his shoulder. His groan vibrates against me, the sound as erotic as the act itself.
“Is that all you’ve got?” he taunts. And then he drops me onto the floor, the cold, damp earth beneath me a stark contrast to the warmth of his body. His body over mine as he pins me to the ground with his weight. “I bet you’re aching for me, aren’t you?”Ash says, his voice laced with raw desire. “You want me to fill you up, invade you, claim you as mine.”
Before I can respond, he thrusts his cock inside me, a violent assertion of his control.
His grip on my wrists tightens, pinning me down as he increases the pace of his thrusts. Each one is harder, deeper, an unyielding assault pushing me closer to the edge. “You want to fight, Lila?” he growls, the threat in his voice only adding to the raw, animalistic desire coursing through my veins. “Then fight.”
I do fight. I buck beneath him, my nails clawing at the earth as I try to find some leverage. But my struggle only fuels his desire. He grunts, the sound echoing through the night as he fucks me with a savagery that matches my resistance. My body rocks with the force of his movements, my cries of pleasure and protest swallowed by the darkness.
His rhythm is punishing, each thrust intended to deepen his claim over me. “You’re mine,” he rasps out.
I can feel him everywhere. His presence all-encompassing. The push and pull, the pain and pleasure, they all combine into an exquisite torment. And I love it. But I won’t stop fighting.
“Stop,” I gasp out, even as the wave of my orgasm crashes over me.
He laughs, the sound dark and uncontrolled against the forest’s quiet. “You’re fucking crazy,” he tells me. “You scream at me to stop while your cunt squeezes my dick, milking me for all I’m worth.” His hands grip my hips tighter, his thrusts slowing but not stopping. “I love your crazy,” he grunts.
His words hit me like an unexpected wave, sweeping away the last of my defenses. I don’t know what the fuck I feel for this man. Is it Stockholm Syndrome? Possibly. I’ve never felt so intensely connected to another person in my twenty-seven years. In his arms, I feel free and uninhibited.
His eyes meet mine with a dark promise. “I’m going to fill you with my cum,” he declares, his words punctuated by a particularly powerful thrust that has me crying out. “Pump your tight little pussy full of it.”
Then, with a primal growl vibrating against my neck, he bites down. The sharp, sudden pain is amplified by the intense pleasure radiating from my core.
I gasp, my body arching involuntarily as his cock twitches inside me. And then I feel the warm flood of his cum. His arm wraps around my waist, keeping me pressed against him as he continues to pump into me, marking me as his. The pulsating warmth spreads, and I can’t help but squeeze around him, reveling in the feeling of being so intimately claimed.
As the pleasure and adrenaline recede, I’m hit by overwhelming emotions. I start to sob, and Ash stiffens, quickly pulling out of me and scooping me up in his arms.
“What’s wrong, starlight? Did I hurt you?”
“No,” I choke out between sobs, shaking my head vigorously. “You didn’t hurt me.”
His worried expression doesn’t fade while he carries me back to the cabin. He settles into an old rocking chair on the porch, cradling me in his arms as we rock back and forth in a comforting rhythm. His touch is gentle and soothing, but the tears don’t stop.
“Why can’t you stop crying? What’s wrong?” he demands.
I take a deep breath, trying to slow the wave of tears, knowing I need to explain. “It’s because of my past, Ash,” I start, choking on the words. It feels like I’m standing on the edge of a precipice, and it’s terrifying. But I can’t keep this hidden any longer, not from him. “My uncle abused me when I was a kid. Until my parents caught him trying to... trying to...” I trail off, knowing it doesn’t need to be said.
Ash’s grip on me tightens, his body rigid as if physically struck by my words. “How old were you?”
I cast my eyes, ashamed even though I know it’s not my fault. “Seven when it started. I was Ten when my parents caught him.”
His jaw clenches, and rage ignites in his eyes. “That fucking piece of shit!”
I clutch onto him. “It’s so long ago, but I’m scared I’m drawn to you because...” I trail off, unable to say the words.
Because I’m damaged by my past.
“I’m going to kill him for harming you,” he says, holding me tighter. His hands ball into fists, his knuckles turning white with the intensity of his grip. “I’m going to enjoy the warmth of his blood on my hands and watching as the light leaves his eyes.” His rage is not directed at me but at the man who stole my innocence. I clutch onto him tighter, letting his strength and determination engulf me like a protective shield.
I shake my head, tears blurring my vision as I bury my face into his shirt. “You can’t,” I mumble through a sob, my words muffled. “He’s already dead. He died five years ago in prison.”
The tension in Ash’s body slowly ebbs away. He takes a deep breath, exhaling slowly as he processes the truth. “Dead,” he repeats, the word like a bittersweet poison on his tongue. “I can’t bring him back to make him pay, Lila,” he says, his voice thick with restrained fury. “But I promise you, I’ll do everything I can to help you move past this.” His voice is firm, his resolve unwavering. “Because you’re my world. My reason for fucking living. I would kill any man that ever tries to touch you, understand?”
