Page 59 of Run Little Killer
His claim is as savage as his words are filthy. Every thrust is harder than the last, pain and pleasure weaving through me as he speeds up his assault. His balls smack against my clit, sending shockwaves of pleasure through me as my orgasm builds.
"Fuck!" I pant, my legs quaking, core knotting. "I'm gonna come."
"Go on little killer,” he growls, fingers gripping the flesh of my ass cheeks and spreading me wide. "Coat my cock with that sweet mess, let me see that pretty little pussy fucking drench me."
Release slams into me like a head-on collision, pleasure ripping through every nerve ending like lust-laced sin. His pace is relentless as he fucks me through my climax beforetoppling over the edge into his own. Hot ropes of cum spill inside me, leaking down my thighs until the last thrust.
I go slack against the tree, carnal bliss coursing through my veins as Nix's body blankets mine. The weight of him is warm and steady against my back, anchoring me to the moment and calming the chaos in my brain.
Sure, he just chased me through the woods and fucked me within an inch of my life, but I feel strangely…safewith Nix. Safer than I have any right to feel.
His panted breaths skate across the shell of my ear, warmth blooming in my chest as he holds me close and murmurs, "Thatta girl, little killer."
25
LENNON
Every inch of my body is deliciously sore when I lift the blanket and slide between the sheets, happily curling into Rhett's side. I kick a leg over his thighs, a corded forearm wrapping around my waist to tug me flush against him. My eyes are heavy, drowsiness weighing down my limbs as sleep threatens to drag me under.
For the first twenty-two years of my life, I crawled into bed each night like this, content to close my eyes and succumb to sleep. Then Shawn happened, and the nightmares that have been plaguing me since stole away the peace sleep used to bring. Now, I lie in bed each night with trepidation pounding through my skull, afraid to drift off. The nightmares can’t find me if I don’t close my eyes. But no matter how much I try to force myself to stay awake, I eventually lose the battle. The nightmares are the only thing I can’t run from.
They always come in threes. Three nights of constricting fear, followed by anxiety slithering beneath my skin as I wonder when they’ll strike again. The pattern ofpredictability doesn’t make it any better, but at least there’s some comfort in knowing what I’m in for.
Well, not anymore. I think I might’ve finally broken the cycle, because I’ve had two nightmares, followed by two nights without one. It’s probably too much to hope that they’ll ever go away completely, but I’ll take one less nightmare as a win. Shit, maybe Nix and Rhett have managed to fix me somehow and the cycle is finally broken.
Rhett's chest rises and falls beneath my cheek, his steady breaths gentle and soothing as I drift off into sleep’s embrace, blissfully unafraid.
That’s where the nightmares find me again.
Nothing about my body feels like it's mine any more, the acrid taste of bile coating my tongue as I lay there, unmoving. Shawn pulls out, rocking back and pushing to stand over me. Sick satisfaction spreads across his face as he looks down at the blood and cum coating his dick– MY blood and cum– evidence of my body's resistance and of its betrayal.
I wince, pain splintering through me as I struggle to pull my pants up, the fabric scraping over my raw skin like sandpaper. Drawing in a trembling breath, I scoot myself back to lean against his desk, shame pinching in the pit of my stomach.
"God," Shawn sighs, tucking himself away. "That was better than I imagined, I shouldn't have waited so long to give into you."
My mouth falls agape, skin prickling at his insinuation as I stare up at him in disbelief. A sick feeling heats my throat. I don't know whether to scream or cry. His pants are still open, belt hanging loosely as he walks towards a filing cabinet and unlocks a drawer.
"Take this," he says nonchalantly, lobbing a pale purple box in my direction.
I blink back the hot tears that threaten to fall from my eyesas I stare at the box. Plan B. Except this was never the plan– not MY plan, at least. On one hand, I'm disgusted that I even have to consider taking this. And on the other, I'm relieved to have it.
God, how fucked up is it that even the tiniest sliver of me feels grateful to him in some way? Does he think this makes him better than other rapists? That helping to erase the evidence somehow unburdens the transgression?
My heart seizes in my chest as the door to his office flies open, Shawn’s wife storming in.
"You asshole!" Natalie shouts, her unnaturally dark hair whipping around her face as she glares between me and her husband. Her bright red lips curl into a snarl as she stalks in his direction, slamming her hands into his chest and pitching him back against the small couch. "You said you were done, that therapy helped the urges!" she spits.
"It did– it does," he stammers, reaching out for her.
She jerks back, slapping his hands away.
"Don't be like that Nat," he groans, reaching for her again. "This wasn't my fault, baby. She tricked me."
"What?" I rasp, pushing myself up to stand on wobbly legs. "I didn't ask for this!"
"You didn't have to," he scoffs, waving me off like a nuisance and keeping his focus on Natalie. "She kept begging to stay for another drink, then tried to make me feel guilty for not drinking with her. Then she claimed she was too buzzed to drive. and you know how nice I am, Nat. I couldn't just let her leave and hurt herself!"
Natalie’s upper lip curls, her suspicious gaze sliding between me and her piece of shit husband.
