Page 24 of Deliver us from Evil

Relentless.

Forgetting how easy it was to break her. How much I enjoyed it.

“Here?” she murmurs against my mouth. “Right here?”

I don’t know what she’s talking about until she pulls back and climbs onto the hood. Spreads her legs.

Black underwear, which is wrong, because that’s not what she was wearing. But maybe she changed, right? Girls like her don’t go around commando.

My dick’s out a second later. Too eager, but I can’t help myself. I have to be inside her again. Feel her suffocating me. Milking me.

I thrust into her pussy with enough force to make her cry out.

Her fingers bite into my shoulders. “Harder,” she says.

Her curls bounce. Her mouth forms a perfect ‘o’. A car comes past, hoots at us. I give it the finger without looking. And then I yank down the top of Trinity’s dress so I can draw one of her nipples into my mouth.

This isn’t right.

Fuck it. I’m sure plenty of people have fucked on the highway.

No, this isn’tright.

It’s the way she rocks into me. So steady, so perfect. Like she gets paid by the fuck, blow jobs extra.

And that’s not her.

That’s not Trinity.

But I fuck her anyway, because it feels almost as good as the first time.

Maybe even better—this time there’s no strange uneasiness floating around in my head. Because back then, with her, it wasn’t just sex, and I still don’t know why.

People fucking. Sometimes consensually. Sometimes not. That’s all sex is to me. All it will ever be.

But it wasn’t that way with her.

It’s ridiculous, and pathetic, and stupid, but that doesn’t change how itfelt.

Like it meant something.

Like it would mean something every single time.

Except now.

This feels different.

Empty.

Fake.

I slap her thigh, but I can’t feel that sting on my palm. She cries out though, and that helps. I fuck her harder, until her moans of pleasure become yelps of pain.

A normal man would stop. Maybe even apologize.

I’m not normal. Not even close.

Her pain is my pleasure. Nothing about that will ever change. She tenses around me, resisting me now. And that arouses me more than it should. More than what’s moral or acceptable.

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