Page 23 of Free Fall

He lifted me like a child, hands under my armpits to maneuver me to the bed, throwing me onto the scratchy sheets with a bounce. I watched him pull his t-shirt over his head and unbuckle his jeans before he spoke again. And I waited like the fool I was.

“I wanted you asleep again, wanted to make you come without you realizing who was touching you. When you’re all sleepy and confused, you don’t care what we do. Your morals go out the window, and I don’t have to deal with the fucking guilt,” he said, ignoring my question, looming over me. “Take off your clothes.”

“No,” I spat back, though my eyes trailed down the muscles of his body, the tattoos decorating his torso.

His shoulders dropped; his head dipped to the side in an almost predatory manner. “Take off your clothes before I make you.”

“You’re going to have to make me then,master.”

Something dark rippled through him, and before I could react, he’d grabbed my ankles and yanked hard, pulling me right to the edge of the bed. I flopped at an awkward angle, only my torso still supported, the rest of me in his grip hoisted up in the air.

He stepped between my thighs, brandishing my ankles outwards, almost painfully so, an obscene vee as he pressed in.

“Stop it, Luca,” I cried. “Please.”

He pushed my legs toward my head, bending me in half with my ass skyward. He didn’t relent until my toes touched the sheets above me and I could barely fucking breathe again, suffocated by my own tits.

His nose grazed along my ass, right up through to my slit, pausing to nip at the flesh of my thigh. Shivers ran through me, even through my underwear, even with the thin barrier he was making me shake. He was a devil.

“Shit,” he groaned, rubbing his face against my pussy, burrowing into it so the fabric stuck to my wetness. “You want this, don’t you? The fight? Admit it, puppet. You don’t want anyone else. Not that fucker with the surfboard. Not my son. You aren’t his kitten, you’re my puppet.”

“Stop calling me that,” I begged, scrunching my eyes up and failing to hide the bursts of pleasure he was bringing me. The bite of pain from overstretched muscles mixed with the pressure from his nose running across my labia, all shooting to my belly in delicious tingles. This was the opposite of the space I was trying to get. I could never escape him.

His teeth scraped, then his tongue pressed out, licking and sucking at the lacy fabric stretching over my pussy, dampening it, toying with it. “Fucking hell, little puppet, you smell so good. Taste even better. I’m going to fill you the fuck up again, you want that?”

“No.” Yes.

“I’m so hard for you, going to break you, ruin you. Cock or fist? You decide.” He was ignoring my words, listening to my body. When I moved my hips to seek more friction, he chuckled.

“Cock,” I said at last, almost cried out in the desperation of it all. I sickened myself. “N-no fist, no stretching, please.” It was too intimate, too much like what we’d done before. I couldn’t let that happen again, wouldn’t let myself sink that deep into submission for him. I dreamed about his fist in me, his cock too, how it felt to be stretched beyond any limit I thought possible… but it would be impossible to experience it again now that I knew who was behind it.

Luca chuckled against my clit, the warmth from his breath making me sob. He let go of my ankles suddenly, letting me unfurl with a very undignified gasp as I rolled onto my side.

“Clothes. Off,” he repeated.

Twelve

Luca

Zeldarosefromthebed and stared at me before turning, giving me her back. With a teasing slowness, she stripped her bodysuit contraption away, discarding it on the floor in a scrappy pile of lace. Bared to me, her ass on display, she rolled her shoulders, rocked her head side to side like she was stretching at her leisure. The moonlight bounced off her skin, her hair tumbled down her back. She looked fucking ethereal.

She’d been easy to track down. While Henry wrestled Cole and me apart, I’d swiped his phone, shoving it into my back pocket before jumping away, hands raised. I knew she wouldn’t stop running, that once she was outside the club, she’d keep going until she could breathe.

So telling Henry I needed to be alone, to cool off, he let me leave, promising to get Cole back and cared for. I’d head-butted my son when he goaded me with my puppet, when he tried to show power over me. But it was all empty threats. He didn’t want to fuck her, just wanted to piss me off. Cole lived for the chaos. Destruction.

From what I could tell, he didn't even have a reason for it other than fucking my shit up.

My best friend looked confused at my behavior, glaring at me as I left them on the street, stalking after Zelda. Who beat up their son for no apparent reason? But he let me, knowing trying to get anything from me now would be pointless. He’d have his questions later.

Henry’s phone showed me Zelly, and I followed her little dot to the shittiest hotel I’d ever laid eyes on. The blue dot winked off as I’d walked closer, but it was too late for her to hide.

The half-asleep man at the desk had taken forty dollars to bribe for her door number. That was all her safety was worth.

Zelly sighed, still facing away, as I dropped my jeans and boxers to the floor, kicking them off before walking over to her, watching her muscles tense as I stepped into her space. My cock touched her first, the cool metal of my piercing jutting into her warm back before sliding up her spine as I pressed in. I ran my fingers up and down her arms, smiling when she shivered and rolled her shoulders.

From the way she was relaxing, it was clear she was expecting me to be soft, to go gentle on her. For just a moment longer, I let her believe that. I would give her what she really craved.

When I wrapped her hair around my fist and yanked her head back, every bit of tension returned to her body like a punch.

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