Page 79 of Cruel Cravings

But Brontë has none to give. He hammers into me, his thrusts rough and punishing. His fingers curl at the base of my throat and he brings our mouths together again. He kisses me as he fucks me, practically bouncing me on his dick.

I’m bobbing like a ragdoll, my legs barely wrapped around his waist. It wouldn’t even matter if they weren’t; he balances my weight easily enough that he wouldn’t miss a beat either way.

“Brontë!” I scream as my pussy quivers and aches. Tiny dots float among the black sea that’s my closed eyelids.

Flashes of pain come and go. His hips slam into me again, his dick reaching my cervix and making my entire body seize up. Every thrust that he gives is designed to make me suffer.

I’m in tears as I grip the metal wires and accept my punishment. I let him have his way with me until some semblance of arousal arrives. It licks away at the burning pain and starts to spread enough that I can find a blip of pleasure.

A tiny little tingle that I hold onto and focus on through Brontë’s heavy thrusts.

But just as I’m starting to discover pleasure, I’m dropped back to my feet. I’m whipped around until I’m facing the chain-link fence and he’s kicking my legs apart. He spits into his hand and strokes his dick a few times before spearing back into me.

I clutch at the metal wires all over again, this time facing the diner and the parking lot and watching in breathless longing as the bus finally departs.

Nobody even notices.

We’re so far away, hidden behind the diner, that no one thinks to glance in this direction.

And still Brontë fucks me. He plows into me from behind, his dick stretching my walls. I grip the fence and close my eyes, deciding to lose myself in the brutal, chaotic motions.

I embrace the burn. The pain he inflicts on me as he fucks me roughly and gropes at any part of me he can.

There’s no other choice but to welcome it as finally my pleasure grows. The small blip I’d found returns, tingling from my sensitive, abused pussy and then spreading elsewhere.

Brontë’s heavy breaths graze my skin. They draw shudders out of me as his hips crash against my ass and he reaches around me to rub my clit. Even the rubbing motions of his fingers are rough.

But they’re the little push I need to send me over the edge. My orgasm explodes from within, making me cry out and clutch the metal wires so tightly, I cut open my hand again.

He follows only a few deep thrusts behind. He slams into me a final time, buried at the back of my pussy, filling me up with his release.

A primitive grunt rumbles out of him as he does, the sound vibrating straight through me. I cling to the fence for seconds to come, still unable to stand on my own.

Brontë steps back and zips up his pants. He picks up my pair though makes no move to help put them on me.

I blink in a daze and then glance down at his warm release trickling along the inside of my thigh.

“Motel,” he grunts. He holds out my pair of jeans for me to take. “Now.”

I don’t have the energy to protest. I’m not even sure I want to anymore.

If I had any doubts about where I belonged or what I should do, Brontë’s put those to rest. He’s left no room to question it.

We’re in this together and there’s no other option. Somewhere in the recesses of my twisted mind, a part of me wonders if I knew that all along. If I tried to run knowing he’d come for me, like he’s always come for me.

The thrill of the chase. The fear of the escape. The arousal that inevitably takes over once he catches me…

All things I’ve begun to crave.

I slide into my jeans and follow in his wake, his shadow the way he is mine.

25.Jael

Rain On My Parade - Unloved

Once we leave Eazy Sleep, we drive straight through to Easton. We ride in silence, except for the occasional short exchange. I leave the radio on, using it as a distraction from the monotonous nature of the highway’s long, sweeping roads.

The only problem is, every hour or so, like clockwork, the radio stations provide current event updates. Most of them hyperfocus on the one story that has rocked not just the local area, but the entire nation. The same story I’d like to avoid at the moment.

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