Page 85 of Merciless Desires

“Stand and spread your legs wide,” I order. “Let me see what is mine.”

A violent tremor runs through her. For a moment she pauses, wrapping her arms around herself. But my patience is at an end. With ruthless force, I pull her up, turn her to face the bed, and shove her face down until her cheek presses the mattress.

I pause to caress the still-reddened skin of her ass, admiring the exquisite marks of possession.

Helpless. Vulnerable. Mine.

She gasps as I force her legs wide, baring the glistening folds of her sex. She won't admit it, but she loves this.

I position my cock at her entrance, pausing there.

"I am going to fuck you," I rasp.

A shudder runs through her. She nods jerkily.

In one thrust, I plunge roughly into her heat, not allowing her body time to adjust to my substantial length and girth. A broken cry escapes her lips.

She is impossibly tight, scaldingly hot. I withdraw before driving in again, deeper.

I know it hurts. It must, yet she arches into me wantonly. I establish a merciless pace, pounding into her relentlessly. She takes each powerful stroke, takes everything I give. The sounds of my pelvis slapping her ass cheeks and her little exhaled grunt with every thrust reverberate around the room.

Release crashes through me, the intensity unimaginable as I spill myself inside her with a guttural shout.

Distantly I hear her frantic cries as she climaxes around me.

Fuck. She’s fucking perfect.

I drop the belt, return my gun to its holster, and step back, breathing hard as she collapses forward, shaking and dazed.

I tuck myself back into my trousers and rake a hand through my hair.

Then, I turn and leave the room, locking the door securely behind me.

I’m not sure who just fucked whom.

When I return a short while later, she’s huddled on the bed in a fetal position.

She stirs but does not look up, curling into herself when I come to stand over her, gazing down.

“Get up,” I say.

She unfurls slowly, unable to disguise the wince of pain as she moves. She keeps her head bowed, long blonde hair veiling her face like a curtain.

“Put these on,” I say more harshly than I intend, tossing a pair of my sweatpants and an old T-shirt on the bed beside her.

“Why?” she whispers raggedly. Her voice holds no defiance now, only resignation.

I close my eyes. “Just get dressed,” I repeat wearily. “We’re leaving this place.”

She complies wordlessly, painstakingly pulling on the clothes I gave her. She drowns in the oversized clothes, but they are warm and provide more coverage than her flimsy night clothes did.

When she’s ready, I motion her forward, then turn her and bind her slender wrists behind her back. She stiffens but remains still, head bowed in submission. The fight seems to have finally gone out of her. I try to tell myself this makes things easier as I lead her silently out to the car.

She moves slowly, and I find myself gripping her elbow in support. I open the back door and help her into the seat, leaning over her to buckle the seatbelt. A hint of the sweet, warm scent of her sex envelops me and I inhale it greedily despite myself.

Our eyes catch and hold for a charged moment, faces just inches apart. Her eyes are slightly haunted but mostly reflect a sort of quiet satiation. While mine, I know, are full of turmoil.

I straighten abruptly, round the car, slide behind the wheel, and start the engine. As I pull onto the deserted dirt road, I catch her gaze in the rearview mirror. Resigned. She doesn’t ask where we’re going. She doesn’t struggle.

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