Page 11 of The Wild Man

Oh sweet Jesus, this can’t be happening. This seriously can not be happening.

“Please stop.” My voice cracks.

He ignores my struggles and pleas and easily rips my sports bra off like it was made of the flimsiest of material. How in the fuck did he rip it so easily? The fresh air slides across my sweat-dampened skin. I’m dimly aware of my nipples tightening. Not from desire, but from the air hitting my sweaty flesh.

Lifting my hips, I try to knock him free, uncaring that I’m probably making it worse by rubbing against his shaft. I just need him off me. I need to leave this place. To get away from this savage man. Because I know what’s coming next, and I want no part of it.

I squeeze my eyes closed when Wild Man drops his head and I feel the warmth of something wet against my nipple. His teeth scrape against the tender flesh, and if this situation weren’t what it was—if he weren’t forcing these acts on me—it might have felt good. Right now, it feels anything but.

A hiss slips past my lips and tears sting the back of my eyes when he palms my other breast and squeezes. His fingers pinch the nipple at the same time he sucks the other one deep into his mouth. He bites down and the pain is nearly too much.

His rusty groan rumbles in his chest, and I feel the vibration of it against mine. A tear slips out the corner of my eye and rolls down my cheek and onto my ear.

Feelings of helplessness and hopelessness weigh heavily in my stomach, mixing with the nausea that’s been slowly building since I realized what a monstrous mistake I made coming out here. This man is too big to fight off and all of my weapons are useless. There is no telling him no. There is no begging him to stop. He’s taking what he wants and for some reason he wants me.

I am utterly and truly fucked, in the literal sense.

“Mine.”

My eyes snap open at the snarled word and the painful grip on my breast. Wild Man looks up at me, his hair covering one of his black eyes. Even in the waning light, I see the glistening of his lips.

Fear pitches my stomach upside down.

When I don’t respond, his lips peel back from his teeth and he growls the word again. “Mine!”

I shake my head. I’ll be damned if I’ll willingly give him what he wants. He’s a fucking lunatic if he thinks otherwise.

He lets my breast go and his weight leaves me. I don’t get the chance to suck in a full breath of air before I’m suddenly flipped over onto my stomach.

Renewed determination whips through me, and I scramble to my knees with the intent to roll off the other side of the pile of blankets. My ankle is grabbed in a firm grip, and I fall back to my stomach when I’m pulled backward.

“Get your fucking hands off me!” I screech, slamming my foot backward, hoping to connect with something. All I meet is air.

Then there’s a weight on the back of my thighs and hands are reaching between me and the blankets. I fight and buck and scream so loud the sound pierces my ears. But no matter how much I struggle, my shorts and underwear are pulled roughly down my legs. They get caught on my boots only long enough for them to be taken off as well.

Then I’m naked. And Wild man is naked. There’s not a stitch of clothing separating our bodies. Nothing to prevent him forcing himself on me. Taking from me something I don’t want to give.

Long fingers wrap around my hips and my ass is pulled up. I curl my hands into the blanket and try to crawl away. My breath leaves me on a whoosh when my arms are yanked behind me and trapped, once again, in one of his hands. He presses them to my lower back.

“Wild Man!” I scream the name, wishing I knew what his real name was. Maybe if I made him feel more human, reminded him that he is human, he’ll stop acting like a fucking animal.

A grunt is my only response.

I feel something hard poking at my entrance.

“Stop!” I cry hoarsely.

With no support of my arms, my cheek is smashed against the blankets. I try to drop my weight to the bed, anything to get his dick away from me, but with my arms pulled back, I can’t go anywhere without popping them from their sockets.

Wild Man pays me no attention, his crazed lust-filled mind set on only one thing. Satisfying one of man’s most basic needs, uncaring of the destruction it’ll cause.

I go limp below him and brace myself, knowing there’s not a damn thing I can do. Tears fill my eyes, dropping to the soft dark-green blanket below me.

“Please,” I whisper. I don’t know if I’m asking God for help or begging Wild Man to stop.

Regardless, my request goes unheeded.

With the fingers of one hand wrapped around my hip and his other hand still holding my wrists, Wild Man, with no compunction at all and a low grunt, slams his hips forward, seating himself completely in one go.