Page 16 of The Wild Man
My breath stutters and a small sound escapes me when the sharp edge of his teeth bite down. With my flesh still in his mouth, his eyes raise to mine. I twist my features into a scowl, letting him know just how much I hate what he’s doing.
I’m unsure if it’s my unwillingness to show something he wishes to see on my face or if it’s something more untamed within him, but he releases my nipple and lifts his head. For a brief moment, my mind celebrates, believing he’s done with his exploration. But it falls flat not even a second later.
Using my hands and his free one at my hip, he turns me around until I’m facing away from him. My legs are kicked apart by one of his and then he pulls me backward. With a renewed burst of energy, I try to yank my hands from his. All I manage to do is strain the joints in my shoulders enough to send pain blazing through me. He pulls me backward again. The new position has my legs straddling his. I’m forced down until I’m sitting on his lap with my legs spread. He opens his knees, which causes my legs to open more.
And then I feel it.
My eyes grow wide and my hands behind me ball into fists. My head falls forward, and I look down between my legs. The cloth that was covering Wild Man has been pushed to the side and his big cock is sticking out, the length of it pressing against the lips of my pussy.
My back snaps straight and the joints in my shoulders feel like they’ll pop out of their sockets when I start struggling in earnest.
“Goddamn it!” I screech. “No! Not again!”
How many times do I have to say the word before I realize that Wild Man just doesn’t care if I want this or not?
My wrists are let go, only for Wild Man to wrap his arm around me tightly, trapping them at my sides. I’m lifted high off his lap and he reaches between my ass and his groin. He lowers me a second later and the tip of his cock touches my entrance. I don’t get the chance to prepare before he jerks me all the way down on his shaft.
I scream at the sudden painful fullness of him. Tears prick my eyes and my stomach spasms, the fruit threatening to make a reappearance. I dig my nails into my thighs, hard enough that I feel the skin break. I slam my head backward, hoping to smash it into his face, but it’s no good.
I squeeze my eyes shut and try to hold back any sounds, but a whimper manages to slip free when Wild Man holds me against him, pushing his hips up at the same time he grinds me downward. He touches a part of my insides that sends a sharp pain through my stomach.
He grunts behind me.
The arm not surrounding my waist, holding my arms captive at my sides, comes in front of me. His hand goes up my stomach, between my breasts, then he wraps his long fingers around my throat. He doesn’t choke me, but it helps hold me in place as he uses his other arm to lift me up, only to bring me back down so hard my boobs bounce.
Another pain-filled whimper rips from my lips.
Three more times he forces me to slip to the tip of his cock and slams me back down. More deep grunts leave him.
His chest presses against my back. I let out a squeak when I’m pushed forward until I feel like I’m going to fall over. I lock my ankles around his calves. With his hand around my throat, barely loose enough to let me breathe, and his hand holding my wrists captive again, he keeps me from tipping over.
I’m basically hanging there, staring at the ground.
He uses both of his holds on me to use me for his pleasure.
When I hear the sound of his low growls as he slides me up and down his shaft, I block it out. When the feeling of him scraping against the walls of my dry pussy becomes too unbearable, I force the feeling away. When the smell of our joining invades my senses, I ignore it.
All of my efforts go to waste when I open my eyes and they land between my legs. The evidence of what’s happening is right there. My gaze locks on his long cock as it keeps appearing and disappearing inside my body.
Wild Man picks up speed, which adds to my discomfort and brings forth a dose of mortification. The harder he fucks me, the looser I get. While I’m glad the pain isn’t so intense, I don’t like that my body is getting accustomed to the abuse.
I’m roughly pulled tightly against him and a warm feeling fills me where we’re connected. A low guttural growl emits from his throat.
I keep my eyes closed and feel the hot streak of tears blazing a path down my cheeks as he releases inside me.
After his cock stops jerking, I’m pulled by my waist until I’m once again sitting properly on his lap with me still impaled on him. His sweat slicked chest meets my back, and I can feel the rapid beat of his heart against me.
His breath fans against my ear when he mutters the same single word in a low voice. “Mine.”
His arm moves from my waist which leaves mine finally free. But I’m completely drained emotionally to even attempt to get away. He lifts me from his lap and sets me to my feet. My hips are grabbed, and I’m spun around to face him.
Because he’s still sitting on the log, I’m forced to drop my head down, meeting his dark eyes with a deadly glare. I want to smack the satiated look off his face. Claw his eyes out and jam my fingers in their fleshy sockets. He sits there like he doesn’t have a care in the world, while I silently fume inside as I feel the scalding hot evidence of his brutal rape sliding down my legs.
We stay like that for several moments. Me mentally coming up with all the ways I’d like to kill the bastard. There’s no telling what’s going through his mind.
His head drops, his eyes tracing my torso, down over the small line of hair on my pubic area, to the slick liquid coating my thighs.
My jaw clenches and the muscles in my thighs tense when his hand comes up between my legs. He slides the tip of his fingers through his release. Revulsion fills me.