He was big. Too big. The feel of him moving inside her was overwhelming.
She didn’t know she started screaming into the pillow until she ran out of air, and
the scream short-circuited. His hips thrust harder, and she knew she had to put an end
to it, or he’d really split her in two.
She remembered all the scrolls and parchments she’d read and knew that she had
to make him release faster, because that was the only way for it to end.
And so, instead of trying to get away, she pushed back, deliberately impaling him
harder.
He grunted. “Oh, yeah.”
The grunt of approval encouraged the feminine part of her that wanted to please.
She squeezed her inner muscles around him, rocking back, giving him everything she
had left.
He was violent and cruel-he intended every stroke to cause pain rather than
pleasure. He bumped against the top of her vagina, hurting her with urgency. Curling
over her, his back smothered hers as he snaked his hand around to pinch her nipple
hard, and sunk his teeth into her neck.
Danika raised her head and screamed as he thrust again, filling her completely.
Then he froze and released. Hot, wet streams spurt deep inside her. On and on and
on.
His hands on her hips clenched hard, and teeth bit down on the sinew between her
neck and collarbone. He groaned and moaned against her, his hard thighs shivering
against her. The instant the last pulse of his release filled her, he pulled out and
stepped back with his knees.
With a ragged gasp, Danika flopped to her side and curled into a tight ball.
The stickiness of his release smeared her inner thighs, and the collar dug into her
neck, but she couldn’t bring herself to move.
To her greatest surprise and fright, he suddenly pulled her up and wrapped a
blindfold around her eyes.
She cried out at the sudden movement and the darkness that abruptly surrounded
her. She began struggling impulsively.
“Relax.” It was a ragged command.
She stilled instantly, her breathing erratic, her heart in her throat. She couldn’t see
a thing.
When he flipped her over on her back, she cried out, frightened. But he merely laid
atop her and pushed inside her aching, warm body again.
It overwhelmed her; she didn’t know this position. He came down on top of her,
and she felt his clothed body blanketing her.
No, his body wasn’t clothed anymore, Danika noted instantly as her fingers met his
naked skin. He had removed his clothing, and her searching finger met the rough
surface of his stomach.
Scars. With the three seconds her fingers felt his bare stomach, she felt them. So
many scars.
Then his hands took hers and raised it high above her head. He resumed thrusting
into her body, his body large and heavy on top of hers.
She whimpered with each thrust. He surrounded her. Tears filled her eyes; it was
too much for her.
Her weak body trembled. All she could feel was him: the things he was doing to
her, the back-and-forth movement of his thick phallus inside her body, the heat
emanating from his skin.
Using his thighs, he nudged her leg more open, forcing one trembling leg up to his
shoulder. He held both her hands in one hand and used the other to hold her leg in that
position, and then he resumed slamming into her.
In that position, he went deep, even deeper than before, and she couldn’t help the
pained screams that escaped her throat as the head of his erection bumped against her
cervix with each thrust of his hips.
Yet, the discomfort didn’t seem to prevent the unfamiliar pressure that started
growing deep inside her.
She tried to fight it, to twist her body away from the intense brutality of his thrusts
because she wasn’t here for pleasure-a pleasure she didn’t deserve.
But he wouldn’t let her. His hands and body easily held her down, and he had the
strength of so many men.
“No!” she gasped.
“Don’t fight it,” he groaned sharply, angling his thrust even deeper and harder.
She screamed hoarsely as her body ruptured into millions of tiny pieces, her inner
muscles clenching helplessly around his shaft.
He groaned harshly, and then she felt him releasing again, his shaft pulsing and
jerking within her. She could feel his hot, wet liquid in her womb, his pelvis grinding
into my womanhood.
It enhanced her own release, much to her shame and helplessness, drawing out her
pleasure-pain. It was like they were linked together because her violent contractions
didn’t stop until his were fully over. He collapsed on top of her, his breathing as
ragged as hers. She felt him everywhere. He surrounded her. She saw darkness. She
breathed him in.
Finally, he rolled to the side. Danika heard a rustle of clothes; some moments later,
he pulled the blindfold from her eyes.
She swiveled her face and stared at him. He was dressed again in a flimsy night
cloth and lying beside her. She curled into a tight ball, her body throbbing. Her heart
was in her throat because he would order her to get out. She wasn’t sure she could
move.
His eyes were watching hers, and hers watched his face in return. Her dazed eyes
were filled with overwhelming exhaustion for the first time.
Danika realised he looked tired, too, even as sleepy as she was. She swallowed
tightly, thinking about how to plead for him not to order her out. “Please-”
“Just for tonight,” he rasped, cutting her off. Then he closed his eyes.
Relief coursed through her, but sleep was quickly taking over. However, even in
her half-gone mind, she needed warmth. Her body needed it-craved it. She didn’t
understand.
Then she snaked a hand around to his chest-up to his shoulder. He stiffened and
growled low in his throat, but her mind was too sluggish to process the warning, so
she didn’t take her hand back.
But he didn’t throw her arm away, even though his body remained taut.
As she fell deep into slumber, she felt her body being drawn closer to the hard wall
of his, and she heard him groan, “Just for tonight.”
Or maybe she imagined it.