Page 35 of Scrimmage

There’s a stinging sensation on my cheek bringing me back to reality, like someone who stretched a rubber band too far and it snapped. I moan. Koda slapped me across the face and I moaned, not in agony but in the embarrassing way that screams slut. I’ve been hit so many times in my short worthless life. The touch is so violent, socomforting, that it makes arousal pool between my thighs. Tears I didn’t realize were running down my cheeks immediately cease.

I stare at him with wide fearful eyes. I’m a fucking train wreck, losing my shit, and I moaned like a goddamn psychopath at this guy I hate for no tangible reason. He doesn’t look horrified or apologetic. Instead he smirks and bites his lip. I see something dark residing deep inside of Koda. His eyes are locked on mine as he pulls his hand away, then brings it down for another smack. This time he rubs his palm over the bruised flesh.

“You like that?”

I close my eyes. It’s been a really long time since someone even remotely made me feel this way. I’m spiraling. Penny doesn’t understand what I need right now. Freshman year really fucked her up and if she heard me right now she wouldn’t be happy. She would drag me out and immediately put me in therapy.

“Yes.”

“What about this?” he shoves me against the wall, his hand circling my neck and squeezing. The moan that escapes me is more than embarrassing, and I see the devil that resides in Koda. He can call me a slut all he wants, but he is lying to himself if he thinks he means it.

“Harder,” I whisper. He crushes my windpipe until it feels like I might pass out. His body traps mine on the wall, pressing up against me.

“What about this?” he breathes in my ear. He reaches up with his free hand and threads his fingers into my hair at the nape of my neck.

I can’t even react, nor can I move. My clit pulses between my legs, and I feel myself gushing. Do I hate this jackass? With a fiery passion. And that’s dangerous. I want to fuck him, and I want it to hurt.

He crushes his lips to mine, and I taste darkness. Punishment. It’s like ripe plums. More reasons to hate him. His big body presses against mine while he kisses me in a way that steals my breath away. His tongue dominates mine, and I fight it because it’s what I like. I want him to force me to submit.

Koda pulls away, and I see a beast in his eyes. He closes them, setting his forehead against the wall over me. His hands travel down my body and squeeze my ass in a bruising grip.

“Fuck,” he groans. “I hate you.”

The sexual frustration is already threatening to make me explode. I should go. This is so wrong on so many levels. I try to extract myself from under him, already angry at the way I feel ashamed.

“Where the hell do you think you’re going?” Koda grabs my neck and slams my back against the wall. He’s a man possessed. I moan again involuntarily, and for the millionth time in my life I wish I wasn’t fucking like this.

“I asked you a question, slut,” he growls in my face then lets me go. That one word that sends shivers of need directly down my spine.

I’m having an internal war, and I can see that he is, too. Just once shouldn’t be that bad. I’m in a spiral, and I need an out. It’s not like I’m unable to control myself. I’m in charge of my own body. After this, I can even pretend to be mad at Alexi for the Stacy fiasco after getting me here, and he’ll back off.

I whimper.

Koda looks like such a goddamn know-it-all. “You really are a slut. I knew it when I saw you that day. Then you opened your fucking mouth.” He crowds me.

His hand slides to the front of the bottom of my makeshift dress and slowly travels up my thigh. I’m dripping wet. At any moment he’s going to know. I want this. I really do. The pain will replace the terror, and he’s willing to dole it out. Koda is clearly not afraid to give me what I need. I’m a grown woman. I should take what I want. My old therapist would be concerned, but she’s not here. She’s long gone.

His fingers are inching closer and closer.

I’m sweating like a whore in church, and my entire body is shaking. Just one inch and I’ll feel his fingers gently caress my pussy, or maybe he’ll dig into me. I can rub myself against his hand and soak my underwear before he thrusts inside of me. It would feel so fucking good.

His fingers pause. They don’t move closer, but they don’t recede. He studies me again. My heart is pounding so hard that I can’t think straight.

“We shouldn’t do this,” I say, the words finally breaking free from their chains, but they’re empty.

“We shouldn’t,” he agrees, but there’s no heart behind it.

I suck in a breath. “You just…”

“It’s just the one time.” His moral compass must be spinning out of control.

The devil wins again. “Just the once. Then we never speak again.”

“Perfect.”

Somewhere inside of me the regret and shame are lying in wait, but it’s easy to ignore when the scent of Koda is encompassing me and drawing me in. He smells intoxicating, like hate and sex. The room is shrouded in darkness. At least I won’t have to be confronted by my bad decisions.

I grab the collar of his shirt and yank his lips to mine. His tongue prods the seam of my lips forcefully. I take his hands and guide one up to my neck. He wraps his fingers around it, just below my jaw and impulsively squeezes. I whimper, the blood already rushing to my head. My chest rises and falls and I’m light headed.

---