Page 32 of No, For An Answer
“You’re fucking perfect, Ashley,” he whispers, pulling me close to him as he sniffs my hair. In a split second he pushes me back, letting go of me, and I stumble. I watch as he takes small, calculated steps towards me and I mimic him until my back hits the tree trunk behind me.
“Look at you, releasing all that pent up aggression. Why?”
“Weren’t you listening?” I hiss.
Why the fuck am I not scared?
What’s fucking wrong with me?
Leaning into my neck, he begins to smell me. His mask running over my cheek and the nylon fabric tickling my jawline. I should be running right now, running for my life, but where am I going to go. My car is parked a little ways from here and who’s to say he won’t get me before I reach it.
“So beautiful. Covered in someone else’s blood,” he breathes in my ear, the tone bringing a shiver to my body I’ve never experienced before. “So perfect.” I turn my face to look at him, to show him I’m not afraid and to defy what he wants me to be.
“I’m not afraid,” I whisper. “I’m not afraid to die, just not yet. Please let me finish what I started.”
“Oh, I’m not going to kill you right now, my girl.”
My girl?
“Then what?” I press. He brings his gloved hand up to the bottom of his mask, peeling the black fabric from his face and folding I up to his nose. Just enough that his mouth is on show. A slow but beautiful smile creeps over his face and the pooling between my legs is evident.
Do I like this? No. Wait, do I?
He pokes his tongue out, then proceeds to flatten it against my cheek. Licking the remnants of Fran’s life force off me. “I’m going to fuck you against this tree, and you’re going to love every single second.” The pop of the button on my jeans causes me to flinch and I close my eyes. An involuntarily moan releasing as he rips the zip down and yanks the jeans roughly down my thighs.
“Don’t,” I beg, but I don’t mean it, and by the way he laughs so sweetly in my ear, he knows it too. Grabbing my shoulders, he spins me on the spot.
“Are you wet for me?”
“No.” Another laugh. He runs his hand over my face, spreading the blood onto his glove as he reaches between my legs and begins to use it as lube against my swollen clit. My head drops back and hits his shoulder at the invasion of his touch against my skin. I hear the zip from his own jeans fall and in a split second, without any warning, he thrusts inside me like a man possessed. The tree bark grinds against my blood-soaked cheek.
“Fuuuck!” He cries out. Leaning forward, he licks the blood from my cheek again. It’s vile and depraved. So why the fuck do I feel the butterflies in my lower stomach? “That’s my sick and twisted little angel.” The words are guttural and raw in my ear as he continues to rub my clit with every single thrust.
“Oh my god,” I breathe out. All the while feeling the fullness of his fat cock thrusting in and out of me. He thrusts in harder, branding my slick walls. He’s not even wearing a condom. I’m just letting him fuck me raw like it’s nothing. Like it’s normal.
He slides his other hand round my throat and pulls me against him, my back stretched into the most awkward but deliciously curved angle as the tip of his cock rubs against that perfect little sweet spot.
“Harder.” The words leave my mouth before I can stop them and with that, he begins to fuck me so roughly that I forget how to breathe. “Fuck me harder!”
Have I lost my damn mind?
Definitely.
“You want harder?” he roars, immediately pulling himself out of me. Fisting my hair he drags me over to Fran’s weightless body, still hanging from the tree. He throws me to the floor as the broken twigs and dirt bite into my bare knees. “On your back, Ashley.” Flipping me over with a black booted foot and proceeding to press it to my chest. Holding me in place.
“What the fuck are you doing?!” I shout, pressing my hands into the sole of his boot, to relieve some of the pressure from my chest.
“Giving you what you want!” he growls down at me. Removing a knife from his thigh, he rips open Fran’s shirt and slices her stomach open. Her blood cascades over me as I reach up and cover my face just in time, before her entrails fall from her gut. Dropping to the floor he flips me over, bracing me on all fours as he forces his way back inside me. I’m absolutely covered in blood.Herblood as he fucks me.
Grabbing my upper arms in a vice like grip he drags me back against his chest. He is on his knees behind me as my jeans tied legs are between his. I don’t realise I’m moaning until a harsh scream ruptures from my throat.
“That’s it. Look at her,” he sings. “Look at what you did to her while I fuck this tight little cunt.” His voice ringing in my ears as he talks to me. My orgasm building with every single thrust. “Widen your legs for me,” he begs. “I need to touch you.”
I involuntarily widen my knees as I see him bite the leather of his glove. Tearing it from his hand, running it over the blood covered fabric, he uses it to coat my swollen and extremely angry clit yet again, rubbing back and forth.
“Yes, oh fuck, yes,” I cry out. I open my eyes and stare up at Fran hanging there as her body rocks back and forth ever so slightly, the cold breeze washing over me as he fucks me from behind. Our skin slapping and echoing into the night.
Hearing the deep rumble in his chest as he shoots his load inside me, makes me jump over the edge with him and it’s fucking incredible. The orgasm waves over my skin and sends shivers through every single pore. Our heavy breathing the only sound within the forest and he drops his forehead against my back.
