If I sat down in front of any of the therapists who my grandparents made sign NDAs that basically said their souls would be sold on the black market if they divulged any of my secrets, they would have told me I need coping mechanisms.
Maintenance.
Cognitive behavioral therapy.
Group therapy.
All the good stuff therapists love to sing in different tunes to avoid spelling out the word insane.
You’re different, they would say. It’s okay to be different.
That’s about the only thing I came out of therapy with.
Being different could be either a blessing or a curse, depending on how I treat it. If I act like a victim, that’s all I’m ever going to be.
If I act like the assailant, however, things could diverge in another direction.
I found out early on that I couldn’t be obvious about my purging. And that’s when it became tricky. My bursts of violence could only be hidden for so long before my grandparents caught up to my activities.
So I bottled them inside until they began to fester and metaphorically attack my internal organs like cancer, with no cure.
Until her.
The girl who’s running because I ordered her to.
Because she wants it as much as I do.
Because she has bursts of violence, too. Only, she’s on the receiving end of it.
Her direction is neither methodical nor calculated as she lets her legs carry her across the vast grounds.
My blood pumps hot in my veins and the internal festering I’ve been experiencing for years disappears. My chest constricts, but my legs stretch and I sprint behind her.
My nostrils flare and my muscles turn rigid with the promise of the chase.
Naomi flinches when her foot catches on something on the ground, but my pretty little toy doesn’t stop.
Doesn’t pause.
And doesn’t ever…ever look back.
Like a perfect prey whose only concern is to run away.
She’s fast, even with the way her dress clings to her thighs with every move. Even with how her pace is frantic and disorganized at best.
I breathe in her fear that’s permeating the air and listen to the sound of her shattered breaths that break the silence of the night. The music from the main house still reaches us, but I don’t hear it over my controlled movements and her frantic ones.
Naomi gives it her all. It’s never half-assed or a makeshift attempt at escape. She sprints at the highest speed her body allows.
Like she’s running for her life.
Sometimes, I believe she’s really scared, that deep down, this whole thing has taken on more weight than it should.
Sometimes, I believe it when she begs me to stop and tries to crawl away from me.
Sometimes, I think it’s the wiser option to stop.
But I don’t. Ever.
Because the thing that beats inside me, the beast as she called it, is unrestrained. She shouldn’t have given him a taste, because now, all he wants is more.
Even if that ends up destroying both of us.
My pretty toy is fast, despite her short legs, but I’m faster.
She’s determined to run, but I’m more hellbent on catching her.
It doesn’t take me long to be right at her heels as the sound of my shoes echoes in the air. She squeaks, literally, and that fuels me with an unrestrained lust for violence.
And her.
It’s a new urge I didn’t know I had until I fucked her on the stairs of her house.
I don’t only have the urge for violence now. I have the urge to fuck Naomi, own her, and make her scream.
I have the urge to drag my fingers through her hair, suck on her tits, and watch her fearful yet thrilled expression.
Her pace picks up and I let her believe she can get away from me. The prey tastes sweeter when she thinks there’s a way out.
There isn’t.
Not from me, anyway.
And definitely not for Naomi.
She darts around in a zigzag pattern, probably thinking she can lose me that way. I block her right, forcing her to change direction toward a cottage Owen and I visited not so long ago.
Her eyes widen when they land on the small building, probably not expecting to find it at the corner of the vast piece of land.
Her moment of hesitation is all it takes to bring her down.
My hand shoots forward and I grab a hold of her nape. The scared squealing sound she releases is music to my ears. Even her scent of lily and peaches is mixed with the primitive smell of fear.
Her limbs flail around as she squirms and attempts to free herself from my hold, to no avail.
It’s cute that she thinks she can fight me. Even after all this time of being effortlessly subdued by my strength, she’s never gone down without a fight.
She likes it, she said once.
The fight. The wrestling. The clawing.
She likes toying with the beast and provoking him for more. But most of all, she likes leaving her mark on me as much as I leave it on her.
I clutch her wrists and yank them behind her back, then fist my other hand in her hair. “Not a fucking word.”
“No…please…” Her lips are trembling more than usual. Her pulse beating even harder than the last time I fucked her against a tree in the forest.
For a normal person, that would’ve been a red flag, something to back out from, but my beast roars to the surface, taking control of me.
All I see is red.
On her skin.
On her cunt.
Everywhere around her.
“Please…please…” Her voice breaks and wetness shines on her lids.
“Shut your fucking mouth.” I push her inside the cottage and she stumbles, her legs nearly failing her before she gets back up again.
I hit the light switch with my shoulder and I kick the door closed behind us. Interruptions are the last thing I want for what I’m planning for her.
Naomi freezes, her wild dark eyes studying our surroundings. Her gaze flits around the space that’s completely filled with mirrors. Owen’s mother collects them or something.
My toy’s dark, mesmerizing eyes are big and dilated as they meet mine through the mirror across from us. Her petite lips part and her chest rises and falls harshly as the realization of where I’ve brought her slowly registers.
My gaze holds hers hostage as I speak. “You will watch your face as I fuck you. You’ll look at how fucking wanton you become when my dick fills that tight cunt of yours.”
Her head shakes the slightest bit. I wouldn’t have perceived it if it weren’t for my hold on her hair.
“No…please…please…don’t…” Her eyes beg me more than her words. The way they widen, filling with fresh unshed tears. The way they soften until she looks like the most breakable I’ve seen.
And that’s all that my beast sees. The need to ruin her.
“You came here dressed like a slut. Is that what you want to be treated as? Do you want your cunt filled with my cum?”
“No…”
“How about your ass?”
“No…please…”
“Have you had anyone in that tight hole of yours, my filthy slut?”
“No…”
“So it’s as virgin as your cunt was when I first took it?”
“Yes…”
“Will you bleed for me this time, too?”
“Please don’t hurt me…please…stop…”
It’s a game of ours. Her please, no means yes, please and her stop means go on.
I shove her down and she gasps as her knees hit the floor. Then I release her hair and lift her up so her ass is in the air. She tries to look back, but I smack her on her half-visible ass cheek. “Eyes ahead. Look at your flushed cheeks.”
She’s hesitant for half a second before complying. Soon after, her dark gaze meets mine through the mirror. Her wrists are in my hand at her back. Her shoulder blades and her cheek hit the floor as I feel up the round globes of her ass.
Every time she sucks in a breath or releases what resembles a mewling sound, my touch becomes rougher and more demanding.
I rip down her panties and inhale her sweet arousal. It smells different from when she’s compliant or when I shove my fingers inside her cunt at her house.
It’s more potent now, more enticing. More…terrified.
I hit her ass and she startles, then as if out of a trance, she fights.
Fuck how she fights.
Her tiny body jerks and her legs try to kick me in the balls, even when the elastic of her panties leave red lines around her thighs.
My dick is rock fucking hard against my jeans as I hold her tighter, showing her who’s in charge.
I spank her again and she jolts, a sob tearing from her throat and bouncing off the walls. “Stop…please…”
My hand flattens against her firm globe of flesh and what resembles a moan mixes with her whimpers. “Please…please…”
“That’s it. Beg me for it. Beg me to fill your cunt with my dick.”
Her eyes widen as they lock on my lighter ones through the mirror.
I don’t recognize the manic look in my eyes, the complete abandon and the fucking need for more.
More of her.
Of this.
My nails sink into the softness of her flesh hard until she gasps. “Do it. Beg.”
“W-what?”
“You’ll beg for it like a good slut tonight. Say, please fill my holes with your cum.”
She shakes her head, but it’s hesitant—lost, even. But one thing doesn’t lie. The reddening of her cheeks as she fixates on me.
“Beg for it, Naomi.”
Her lips part, probably because it’s the first time I’ve used her name during our fucked-up fantasy.
We’ve had some sort of an unspoken rule that says we’re different people during the chase. I’m the beast and she’s the toy.
I’m the monster and she’s the prey.
But I couldn’t give a fuck about any of that tonight.
Maybe it’s because of the way she looks in the sexy-as-sin dress or how her body feels hotter. Or maybe, somewhere in my brain, she’s already evolved to more.
The fucked-up sex was once all the connection we had, but now, it goes hand in hand with everything we have.
Breaking the invisible rule might not be the wisest thing to do, but I couldn’t care less.
Maybe she couldn’t care less either, because her tongue darts out to lick her lips before she whispers, “Please…”
“Please what? Say the fucking words.”
“Please fill me.”
“With what?”
“Your cum… Please fill me with your cum.”
I don’t even know how the fuck I have the presence of mind to free my dick. All I can register is her whimper as I slam inside her wet heat. She’s soaking, but her expression contorts as I go all the way in.
I like it when I hurt her. Her body naturally submits to mine and she releases these small noises that make me harder. Her expressions of both awe and pain that I can’t get enough of.
Or her.
Because that’s what this is all about.
Her.
It might have started with my twisted urges, but they soon mixed with her own fantasies, and now we’re just two fucked-up souls feeding off each other’s depravity.
We’re two monsters who made peace with the darkness.
An animalistic groan spills from me as I pound into her. “Beg, Naomi. Beg me for more.”
“Please…give it to me. Please…” She strains, moaning, and her breathy voice is the sexiest thing I’ve ever heard.
“Harder?”
“Yes…yes…yes…hurt me…fuck me…”
“Rougher?”
“Yes!”
“Like this?” I pull back almost all the way, then pound back in while my finger forces entry into her ass.
She shrieks her orgasm as her cunt strangles me. “Yes…yes…please…please…more!”
“Do you want me to tear into this tight hole as well, my dirty whore? Want me to stretch it so I’m the first one there?”
“Please!”
I didn’t think I would ever enjoy hearing her say yes or beg for my rough, unapologetic side, but my dick thickens inside her. The mere sound of her voice is an aphrodisiac made for me.
Only me.
I coat another finger with her juices and ram it into her tight hole. She bucks off the floor, her back arching, but she’s completely helpless as she rides out her orgasm.
Her back hole contracts around my fingers, the tight ring of nerves swallowing me in.
“I can’t…please…” She sobs. “You’re too big in my pussy… I can’t fit you there…”
I release her wrists and she falls on her elbows, but instead of attempting to escape, she stumbles back into position.
My voice drops in volume and I feel the shiver in her when I speak. “You think I fucking care?”
As if possible, both her cunt and ass clench around me and I use the chance to thrust in a third finger, slower this time, lubing her with her own juices.
Naomi’s shriek is one of both pleasure and pain as tears cascade down her cheeks.
“Do you feel me stretching you so you can take my dick?”
She lowers her head, but I grab her by the hair, fingers digging into her scalp as I pull my fingers and dick out of her. “Look at me own every fucking hole you have to offer.”
Tears fill her eyes, but a look of complete ecstasy covers her features as I slam into her tight hole.
“Oh, fuck…” I bite my lower lip as my balls slap against her ass cheeks.
Naomi screams a piercing sound that nearly pops my eardrums. Her face is flushed red as her tears wash over her wretched expression.
I stop for a second as her stiff back muscles stretch around me.
“Don’t…stop.” She gasps, then blurts, “Don’t stop. Please don’t stop!”
“I wasn’t planning to.”
What seems like a relieved expression paints her face before she sobs. “Fuck me…fuck me harder, Sebastian.”
She doesn’t have to ask me twice.
I drive into her with a level of madness I haven’t felt before. One where it’s only me and her.
I don’t give a fuck if it’s the beast and the toy or the quarterback and the cheerleader.
All I need is her strangling me, crying, begging for more.
Then begging me to stop.
Then begging for more all over again.
My balls hit her firm ass with every thrust, making her cry out until her voice is hoarse.
My deep, guttural growl fills the air as I come inside her.
I don’t even think about it as I ejaculate all the way in, filling her with my cum until she’s mewling, whether in pleasure or pain, I have no clue.
One thing’s for certain, though. We broke some sort of a glass wall between us tonight. It might have been invisible before, but it was always there, stopping us from going too deep.
Too raw.
Too hard.
Now, there’s nothing to stop us.
Not even ourselves.
