Total pages in book: 74
Estimated words: 69612 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 348(@200wpm)___ 278(@250wpm)___ 232(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 69612 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 348(@200wpm)___ 278(@250wpm)___ 232(@300wpm)
He’s giving me a choice, and deep down I know that this is the last choice I will ever have.
“Inside me,” I whimper.
He fucks me up against the side of the car, hoisting my ass up on the car door, resting me where the wound-down window usually sits. He moves my clothing out of the way like it doesn’t matter, sliding my underwear to the side. I wrap my arms around his neck as his thick cock slides in and out of me, giving me dark pleasure.
I am being taken on the side of the road like he owns me. Because he does. It’s a simple fact. He won’t let me get away. Not now, and not ever. His teeth are grazing my neck and he bites down, sending thrills of excitement rushing through me.
Then he pulls me down, turns me around and lifts me up, pushing my upper body over the thick windowsill so my head is in the car and my bare ass and thighs are exposed to the world.
Smack!
I cry out in pain as he whips his hard hand against my ass.
“This is what you get for stealing from me,” he lectures from behind me. “Such a naughty girl.”
He grabs my waistband and uses it to hold me steady as he spanks me hard and fast, two dozen rough slaps landing on my cheeks before I can so much as squeal an apology that I know he doesn’t even care to hear. This is the point to him, the punishment. The chance to make me regret my actions. This is the power that feeds him, and the more I wail and whimper and beg for him to stop spanking me and keep fucking me instead, the more he enjoys himself.
“Running away? Stealing my car to do it? That is outright criminal behavior, my dear,” he lectures, running his hand over my sore ass. “You’re going to have to be taught how to behave properly in order to be my wife.”
The walls are closing in around me. They are hot and dark and they are gripping me with intensity. I am surrendering to him, giving up the fight. I am letting him have me.
He slides back inside me, using my pussy with rough, hard strokes. His hips slap against my ass over and over, reigniting that sting every time he buries himself deep inside me.
Just before I can come, he senses the telltale quivering of my pussy and slides out completely. I hear the light snap of something, and I realize that he has a small bottle of lube with him. Of course he does, and of course he is drizzling that between my spanked cheeks.
“When you’re a bad girl, you get your ass fucked,” he growls. “Doesn’t matter where you’re bad either. If I catch you on the side of the road, it’s the side of the road where you get taken.”
I whimper as he nudges his cock against the tight hole of my ass, then slowly and inexorably pushes inside. I am tight and resistant, but he has never been concerned with my resistance.
He uses my ass more slowly than my pussy, because he knows that the humiliation of being taken this way out in public is something that is going to stay with me for a long time. He is demonstrating to me what my life is going to be like now, how depraved he will be with me, and how much I will erotically suffer when he decides I deserve it.
My clit is rubbing against the softer inner ridge of the door frame, though, and I was close to coming anyway. It’s a dark little secret of mine, not well kept from him, that makes it obvious to both of us that I am turned on by his darkness, by his use, and by his domination.
Sam fucks me with ever harder strokes. I can hear him grunting behind me, his sounds getting more guttural and desperate as he gets closer to coming in my ass.
“I can come in this tight little hole because I’ve already bred your other one, haven’t I? I’ve bred your pussy. And now you’re going to have my baby. You’re going to be the mother of my children. And there are going to be so many of them, because I am never going to tire of fucking you.”
God, I could come just from him talking to me like that. I don’t know why the most bold descriptions of what he is doing to me piss me off and turn me on so much at the same time.
“I fucking hate you,” I growl back over my shoulder, lying in the effort to reclaim some kind of power. It’s silly. I was never going to get my power back from him. He took it from me the first moment we met, and he is never going to relinquish it.