Page 41 of Nowhere to Run

My pulse pounded, my breath shallow.

“It… hurts,” I whispered, barely able to keep my voice steady.

He paused, and for a moment, I thought—hoped—he’d give me a break. But then came his low chuckle. Dark and amused.

“That’s what I wanted to hear.”

A chill shot down my spine, my breath catching. He was loving this. Savoring my resistance, the way my body clenched around him, the sharp gasps I couldn’t hold back.

What a sadistic bastard.

He was enjoying this. My pain. My helplessness, the way I had no choice but to take him.

And yet… a slow, dark heat unfurled inside me, curling low in my stomach. I should hate this. I should be cursing his name, screaming at him to stop.

But instead, my thighs clenched, my pussy throbbing with need, aching to be touched. I fought the humiliating urge to reach between my legs, to play with clit, bring myself to orgasm.

Even with the sharp ache radiating from where he stretched me open, my body was betraying me, responding to his dominance.

The pain was still there, searing and consuming, but something about this—about being overpowered, pinned down, bound, forced to take him—unearthed something raw. Something primal.

Like the villain had won.

The thought sent another hot pulse through me, a wave of shame and arousal so tangled I couldn’t separate them.

I clenched my teeth, forcing my breathing to steady, refusing to let him see I was becoming undone.

But he already knew.

His breath was hot against my ear, his fingertips trailing down my back like claws, possessive, marking every inch of me as his.

“You fucking want it,” he murmured, voice thick with satisfaction. “I can feel your body responding to me.” His hand tightened on my hip, groaning as he pushed his cock deeper, testing how much more I could take. “A part of you loves this.”

My mind swam, torn between fear and the surge of need that built with every movement. Just as I felt myself nearing the edge—pushed too far—he pulled back abruptly, and a sharp breath of relief escaped my lips.

“Don’t worry, princess,” he said, laughing softly. “I’m not done yet.” Just want to take a look at you.”

My stomach tightened as he reached for the nightstand. I knew what he was getting. The cold sensation dripped between my cheeks, the liquid slowly sliding inside me.

“What a beautiful asshole,” he murmured, voice sinful. “So pink and tight for me.” He slipped a finger inside me, spreading the lube around, preparing me for more.

I whimpered, heat rushing to my face, his filthy words making me burn with humiliation. “Please,” I begged, my voice trembling. “I can’t take anymore. It hurts too much.”

A sharp smack landed against my ass, stinging deep, making my back arch from his force.

I gasped, my eyes watering.

“Did you forget who owns you?”

His tone was cutting as he positioned his cock at my asshole again. “I do,” he growled. “And I don’t want to hear any more protests.”

I gasped as he pushed inside me, deeper this time, the sensation more all-consuming than before. I squirmed back and forth, trying desperately to stop him from going deeper. But it only seemed to amuse him further.

His chuckle was low and cruel as he held me steady.

“That’s cute baby,” he mused, his tone mocking. “Think you can escape? Not a chance. But I like seeing your ass wiggle while you try.”

A shiver ran through me. Humiliation burned hot beneath my skin, but so did something else. Something deeper.

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