Page 59 of To Hell

I don’t kick or push, no matter that my first instinct is to hide.

Being handled like this does something to me. It’s familiar. Only this time, instead of going into a panic attack, I’m finding that the rough handling is what I want when we are intimate. I don’t want to be treated like I’m broken.

“You are drunk,” he says, dropping me beside the door of the car.

He is parked a little away from the venue, so all I see from here are dots of lights in the distance and the faint humming of the music.

“Yes, but drunk with desire for you, nothing else,” I hold his gaze, which has gone so dark I can barely make out his eyes. My laughter sounds like crashing stainless dishes and I slap a hand against my lips to stifle it.

“Get in the car,” he growls, and I concur with my body now quivering for reasons other than fear because I can feel the intention in his voice. He slams the door as soon as I get in and spins to climb onto his side of the car.

He drives through the winding roads of the hills and woods surrounding the villa. He is not driving out of the villa, so he is looking for something.

My hands are burning to touch him, so I let them, placing both on the bulge of his pants.

“Zoe…” It sounds more like a growl than my name. His body is tensing under my touch, and the car is suffocating me with animalistic want.

It’s raw.

The engine cuts off just under a tree, away from streetlights and farther away from the wedding venue.

“Out,” he thrums, his voice low and commanding. “Go to the front of the car and bend over.”

I’m all kinds of things right now. The sensation of the searing liquid flowing between my legs and dampening my pussy, the heat coursing through my veins, and the frenzied hammering of my heart against my breastbone.

Leaping out of the car, I walk to the front and put my hands around one railof the grille guards. The night air licks my skin, causing goosebumps to burst out.

Ettore steps out of the car, his searing eyes trained on me, “Give me a safe word,” he stalks around like some predator grooming his prey until he is behind me. “You like to be fucked how I like to fuck, Zoe, but what we have been doing is barely the tip of how hard I want to fuck you.”

I scramble for safe words in my head, the sensation wracking my nerves and twitching my soaked swollen pussy.

I have never been asked to give a safe word. Men have always taken from me. They never cared if I broke or died from their brutality. And I have seen girls leave with clients and never return. Not because they were sold but because they were used by monsters with sick, disgusting fetishes.

But here I am with a man who bought me and could do whatever he wants to me, he could unleash all his horrid fantasies on me, yet, he wants me to give him a safe word.

Something comes alive in my heart. I can feel the sun rising in it.

“Vogue for stop,” I gulp as he grips the hem of my dress.

“And when I’m choking you with my cock, and you can’t get words out?” He leans his upper body on me and lines the slit of my dress, his weight and fingers stringing colossal waves of wildfire through me.

“Three fingers,” I stutter out.

“Good,” he rips my dress, the slashing sound hissing through the night and my legs vibrating from the exposure, “I bet you are wet,” his hand comes to cusp my pussy, and a hard smack stings my butt. “I knew it,” he splays some of my wetness up the crease of my ass, and another smack burns my butt cheek.

Then he pulls away, and when he comes back, his cock is priming my opening. “Wider, Zoe,” he groans, and I sprawl my legs apart.

He wastes no time and trudges into me with one hard shove; a smack follows that makes me tighten my pussy around his cock, another comes, and I’m almost coming. Then, the pounding commences.

His thrusts are raw and intense, filled with the urgency of our desire. I fear we might move the car with how hard he is pounding into me.

Soon after, my orgasm wrecks through me like a nuclear explosion with an intense heatwave of pleasure, contracting my stomach and pussy in a deliciously painful way, my heart suspended in my mouth.

My grip around the rail slips, but he is not done with me. His hands grip me by the waist so I’m bunched over, and he keeps ramming into me.

What we have been doing is barely a scratch of how hard I want to fuck you.

We are finally coming to terms with the fact that this fire between us is inevitably consuming.

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