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“Shut the fuck up and let me suck your cock,” I said, dropping my voice to a low and threatening range. “I want to do this for you. Get your mind off things. Even if it’s only for a few seconds.”
He stared at me for a long moment. I could see him wanting to tell me no, to say he didn’t want to, but in the end, he sighed and collapsed back on the bed, allowing me to work.
I dragged his pants down to his ankles along with his underwear. His dick lay against his thigh, slowly growing and hardening. I reached forward and grasped it in my hand. He released a contented sigh as I stroked the shaft, moving slowly while he grew rigid.
“Let it go,” I whispered. “It’s just you and me right now. Let everything else go.”
Soon, his cock sat upright, twitching in time with his heartbeat, throbbing and rock hard. The heat of him radiating into my cool fingers.
“Suck it,” Drake commanded, staring at the ceiling. “Suck me off. Make me come.”
His commands sent a shiver of excitement through me, and I obliged. Leaning forward and taking the huge cock into my mouth. The soft bulge of the head slipped over my lips and across my tongue, the rest of the shaft filling my mouth. Drake groaned as I let him go to the back of my throat.
Wrapping my hand around the base, I bobbed my head up and down on him, grinding my tongue against the bottom of his shaft with each stroke, fucking him with my mouth. Drake’s hips moved, almost imperceptibly at first, gently thrusting into my mouth in time with my strokes. I could still feel the tension in his body, and I wanted to ease that, to take his thoughts away from the horrors of the day and give him a few moments of bliss.
I sucked at the head, slipping my tongue back and forth across it, while stroking him with my hand. Drake made more and more guttural animal sounds as I urged him onward.
Pulling my mouth away, I looked up at him. “Fuck my throat, Drake. Give it to me. Give me all that you have.”
Finally lifting his head, he gazed down into my eyes. “Are you sure?”
I nodded and grinned. “Make it hurt.”
He bared his teeth in a combination of grimace and smile. Without further prompt he reached forward and took hold of my hair, pulling me roughly back down onto his cock. He rammed his hips up, shoving his full length to the back of my throat, triggering my gag reflex, but I was too turned on to care. I choked back the sensation, swallowing, and let him take me. The pain of him fucking me made my pussy wet. I wanted to finger myself, to fuck, but this was about him. I would give him my full attention.
“Dear god, that mouth is so good,” Drake hissed as he kept crashing into my mouth.
The thick head of his cock probing at the back of my palate, his hands tugging on my hair, and the slick feeling of my saliva as it dripped down his dick were some of the most erotic things I’d ever experienced. Tears sprang to my eyes as I continued to force myself from gagging on him. The pain and fear of suffocation somehow increased my sexual appetite. Digging my nails into his thighs, I bobbed my head in time with his thrusts.
“Fuck,” Drake growled. “I’m gonna fucking come.”
I groaned in pleasure and shoved my head down, pushing his cock all the way to the back of my throat, enveloping his full shaft. He cried out, pulling my hair down to hold me in place as his dick pulsed and twitched. Thick hot cum pulsed into my mouth at the very back of my throat, and I swallowed it down greedily.
Finally spent, Drake released my hair and collapsed back on the bed, gasping for breath. His cock slid free of my mouth; it and my chin both glistened with spit and residual cum. I wiped my face with the back of my hand and grinned down at him, caressing his thigh and stomach.
“Rest now,” I whispered. “Tomorrow, we hunt.”
Chapter 13
Dahlia
Sunlight pierced through the slats of the blinds, landing like stripes of fire on my skin, and ripping me away from my sleep. I blinked away the remnants of dreams of fire and blood. I lifted my head to find Drake staring at me.
“We’re heading to the states,” he said without preamble as he pulled on his shirt. “I’ve got everything figured out. The new IDs will work. Ports will be a breeze. We’re done fucking running.”
His confidence was like a contagion, and despite the unease twisting in my gut, I got up, intrigued by his words. Drake had woven a web of certainty so tight around us that to doubt him now would be akin to blasphemy. Even in his heartbreak, I knew I could trust him to find a path to follow.
After washing up and getting dressed, we abandoned the sanctuary of shadows that the motel room provided with the promise of blood yet to be spilled. Drake strode ahead. I lagged behind, haunted by the echoes of screams that seemed to cling to his shadow. Also, I was fucking sleepy and needed coffee.
“I’m going to head down to the docks,” Drake said. “Going to secure us transport. Head to that shop there, and grab food and any supplies you think we’ll need.”
I nodded and took a wad of cash from him before crossing the road to the market. Even then, in the bright light of morning, I kept scanning the area for signs of Owen or Bri. They’d taken on an almost supernatural feel in my mind. How the fuck did they keep finding us. The only possible solution was that Owen had been much more intelligent and conniving than Drake had ever thought. If he had been smooth enough to pull that much wool over the eyes of someone as street smart and intelligent as Drake then he truly was a force to be worried about.
The grocery store down the road was a mundane slice of reality that grated against my senses. After everything we’d seen and done the last twenty-four hours it had a surreal yet banal feel to it. The fluorescent lighting was harsh, too bright after the velvet darkness we’d been cloaked in back in the motel. I moved through the aisles with mechanical efficiency, selecting provisions with little care for taste or pleasure. It was sustenance—fuel for the body, nothing more. All I tried to do was pick items that were shelf stable and would be easily packed into our backpacks. Along with the food, I grabbed a few other supplies, and a big twenty-four pack of bottled water.
The cashier gave me a once-over as I paid, her eyes skimming over the bruises that bloomed like dark blossoms on my skin, but she said nothing. They never did. No one had ever said anything. As a child I’d been covered in bruises. Many caused by my own parents, but most were from the rough hands of men—four and sometimes five times my age—who’d taken their pleasure from my body.
Returning to the dock struggling with the weight of my bags, I saw the boat bobbing gently in the water. Rather than a simple ship, it looked like a vessel of escape and a harbinger of violence, sharp and angular like a blade. Drake had already taken care of the formalities. We loaded our supplies in silence.
