Page 19 of The Wild Man

I tense, preparing to fight him more if he tries to put that huge thing inside me again.

A girl can only take so much. Being taken by him three times already was three times too many.

I’m roughly pulled closer, which makes my hands useless between us. There’s no way I can overpower him, no matter how much I tell myself that I’ll fight him tooth and nail and this time I’ll manage to stop him from raping me.

A moment later, he lets me go. My jaw slackens, my mouth dropping open, as I’m suddenly back on my ass on the burlap sack and Wild Man is stalking away from me. After stopping and grabbing the knife and spear he was working on, he leaves through the leafy opening, disappearing out of sight.

What the hell? I silently ask myself. He was hard. Not that I’m complaining, but I thought for sure he would have another go at me.

I don’t waste time thinking on the reason why he abruptly left and instead focus on getting the fuck out of this place. The first thing I need to do is get this godforsaken rope off me. Then find something I can use as a weapon.

I pluck up the rope and stare down at the knot. I’ve learned from my dad and brothers several different knot styles. But this one is unfamiliar and looks complicated as hell. It only takes me a couple of moments of struggling with the intricate tightly woven knot to realize I don’t have enough time to figure it out. I walk to where the other end is tied, only to find the same style knot.

Okay, time to move on and look for something to cut the rope with. Ten minutes later, I let out a growl of hopeless frustration. There’s not one damn thing I can use that’s sharp enough. Even the spears I spotted earlier are gone. Either Wild Man has nothing of use or he’s anticipated me looking and has hidden everything. There’s no sign of my backpack, gun, or taser either.

My stomach cramps, and I wrap my arm around my lower torso. So far, I’ve managed to ignore my full bladder, but it’s getting increasingly hard to continue to do so. Growing up with men who love the outdoors and camping, peeing outside is nothing new to me. What I have an issue with is doing it not knowing where Wild Man is or when he’ll return.

And anyway, I don’t have time to search for a spot to relieve myself. I need to spend this time looking for a way to escape before he comes back.

I drag the rope behind me as I make my way back to the small opening where the bed is. I’ve already searched the area, but it wouldn’t hurt to take a closer look. Maybe I missed something.

My eyes immediately go to the two skulls sitting on either side of the bed, and a shiver of revulsion skates through me. I walk to the pile of blankets and pick them up, giving them a firm shake before tossing them to the side. It jostles one of the skulls and it rolls to the side. I ignore it and grab the sheet I used earlier to cover myself. I wrap the material around my torso twice and tuck the extra in itself to secure it as best as I can.

I start walking along the edges of the makeshift walls, kicking shit out of my way as I search the ground. I wince when the tip of my big toe encounters something hard. Squatting, I brush away leaves and twigs and find a metal rod about two feet long. It’s hollow, is only about a quarter inch in diameter, and looks like it might be part of a frame from a tent.

Picking it up, I stand and continue looking in case I find something better. A few minutes later, when I don’t find anything else, I come to the conclusion that the rod will have to be my weapon. It’s not the best choice, but it’ll have to do.

With determined steps, I leave the sleeping area, ignoring the painful spasm in my bladder. I go back to my burlap sack and get to my knees, resting my butt on my heels. I set the rod beside me, making sure to keep it hidden under some brush, and point my eyes in the direction of where Wild Man left.

I don’t have to wait long before he’s stomping back through the opening. I hold my breath, forcing myself to wait instead of immediately attacking him. I need to time this perfectly.

He stops just inside the entrance and looks at me. His eyes slide to the sheet I have wrapped around my chest, and his lip curls up like the material is the most disgusting thing he’s ever seen. I brace, curling my fingers around the rod, when he starts in my direction. I wait until he’s only a foot away and is reaching down to grab my arm. I spring up to my feet, taking the piece of metal with me. I lift my arm, ready to take a swing at him. I aim it for the side of his head. I don’t want to do permanent damage. Just enough to knock him out for a while to give myself a head start.

I scream out in rage when the stupid fucking man catches the rod before I can connect it with his head. He yanks it from my hand and throws it to the side, where it lands somewhere with a soft thump.

Beyond furious, I screech and start lashing out with my hands, raking my nails down his chest. The sheet falls from around me, but I can’t give any shits at the moment. All I care about right now is getting away from this madman.

Finally, I manage to land a fist in his stomach and he lets out a grunt. My victory only lasts for a couple of seconds before I’m spun around and Wild Man has his arms wrapped around me, pinning my arms to my side. He squeezes my torso, and the air in my lungs whoosh out. My bladder protests violently and a new worry develops. It would serve the asshole right if I peed on him.

His hard dick, still separated by the cloth, wedges itself between my asscheeks. My hair is grabbed and my head is yanked back so far it’s a wonder he hasn’t snapped my neck. Out the corner of my eye, I see his harsh stare boring into the side of my face. I shoot my gaze sideways, glaring back at him with all the hatred I feel toward him right now. If looks could kill, he’d be dead on the ground, sightlessly staring up at the dense canopy of trees above us.

“Stop!” he growls the word, once again reminding me he can speak. He just chooses not to.

“Then let me go,” I spew back at him.

“Never. Mine.”

I dig my nails into the flesh of the arm he has wrapped tightly around me. “I’m only yours until I find a way to escape. Or until my family finds me. And when they do, you’re dead.”

My father has always told me that my mouth was going to get me in trouble one day. That I need to learn to think before I speak. I’ve never taken his warning seriously. I should have.

My head is pulled to the side, and I let out a shriek of pain when Wild Man sinks his teeth into the side of my neck. I don’t know if he broke the skin, but it damn sure feels like it. My nails dig deeper until I break the skin, the warm trickle of blood meeting my fingertips.

Wild Man grunts against my neck as he continues to bite and suck on my skin, making the pain sharper.

I wiggle, trying to break his hold on me, but it only manages to wedge his dick deeper into the crack of my ass. My body stiffens when I feel the head grazing my puckered hole. I suck in a breath and hold it, hoping by some miracle he doesn’t get any ideas. There’s no way in hell I can fit that thing in my ass. It would tear me beyond repair.

I somewhat relax when my feet hit the ground and Wild Man lets me go. I stumble forward a step and whip around. Wild Man stands there, his chest rising and falling with his harsh breaths and his hands balled into fists at his sides. Satisfaction soothes some of my anger when I see the scratches on his chest. His eyes bore into me, and I’m not sure if the dark look he’s giving me is filled with desire or anger. Maybe a bit of both.