Chapter 5 A #2
I twist hard, knife flashing up as I drag the blade across his chest. A deep, angry line splits open under his shirt. He grunts, eyes narrowing as pain flashes through that cold, dead stare.
In one brutal yank, I’m slammed to the concrete. My head cracks against the floor, the impact blinding. Stars burst behind my eyes. Air leaves my lungs.
Before I can recover, he’s on me.
Straddling my hips. Pinning my arms above my head in a crushing grip that cuts off blood flow and dislodges the knife from my grip. The weight of him is suffocating. He pulls his own knife from his pocket and presses it straight into the wound on my side.
Pain explodes. A white-hot, all-consuming fire that rips another scream from my throat before I can swallow it down.
“Get the fuck off me!” I thrash beneath him, every muscle straining to break free.
He shifts his weight and drives the blade deeper. The rest of the stitches split. Blood pours. My body convulses beneath him, and hot tears spill despite everything in me trying to hold them back.
“Stop—fuck you—”
His lips twitch into something that isn’t quite a smile.
“Look at you. Still fighting.” He presses harder, twisting the blade. “So fucking pretty when you break.”
I suck in a sharp breath, barely able to hold on.
“I’m going to bleed you dry, kitten. You’ll beg for mercy.” He leans in closer, his breath hot on my ear, knife still buried in my side. “And when that’s gone too, when all that fight’s ripped out of you, you’ll beg for me.”
“You fucking bastard,” I snarl, my breath hitching as he brings the knife to my collarbone.
“Such a filthy mouth. Maybe it’s time I put it to better use.” He grinds his hardening cock against me. I shudder, my stomach churning.
He releases my hands, but the knife stays at my throat. Shifting his weight, the pressure on my chest lifting slightly. He reaches down, the sound of his zipper sending a fresh wave of dread through me.
“No! Get off!” I try to break free, but the blade bites deeper, drawing blood, and I freeze.
“Aww, kitten, don’t fight it. Just open wide.” His free hand tangles in my hair, yanking my head back. “Open. And stick that pretty tongue out.” He drags me up by my hair, my scalp burning with each tug. He shifts, standing in front of me, the knife still at my throat. I glare at him.
“Open.” He jerks my head back hard. “And if you fucking bite me, I’ll tear your throat open.”
I stare at him, my jaw clenched, refusing to obey. But the blade against my skin presses harder, forcing me to choose between humiliation or death. I let out a shuddering breath, my eyes never leaving his, and open my mouth, sticking out my tongue.
“Good girl.”
He releases his grip on my hair and runs two fingers over my tongue.
“Keep it out.” Bringing his cock to my face, it’s long, thick, veiny, and hard as stone.
He moves his hips forward, the tip of his cock brushing against my tongue.
“You bite, and you’re dead.” He presses the blade harder against my throat.
Salt and musk fill my senses as he pushes deeper into my mouth. He groans and begins to thrust, his movements rough and forceful.
I’ve never done this.
Never had anyone force themselves on me.
Never had someone’s cock shoved down my throat.
I feel dirty. Violated. Angry. I gag as he pushes deeper, his hand on the back of my head, holding me in place. His movements are becoming more frenzied. Tears stream down my face, a mix of rage, pain, and humiliation.
His groans fill the room, mingling with my choked breaths. It seems to go on forever, the room filled with the wet, filthy sounds of his cock plunging into my mouth.
“Relax your throat,” he grunts at me.
I don’t know what that means. I don’t even know what I’m doing.
Yanking my head back, his cock slides out of my mouth. I gasp for air. His hand tightens in my hair, pulling me closer to him.
His cock twitches, a bead of pre-cum glistening at the tip, just inches from my face. I can’t look away, my eyes fixed on him.
I hate this. Hate him.
“I want my cock deep in your throat. Now relax.”
I close my eyes, trying to focus on anything but the reality of what’s happening.
He roughly yanks the back of my head, the sharp sting forcing another gasp from my lips. His cock invades my mouth again. I try to relax my throat as he plunges deeper, his thickness stretching my jaw wider, pushing against the back of my throat. I gag and sputter, saliva dripping down my chin.
“Jesus fucking Christ,” he angrily yanks my head back again, “swallow me. I want my cock in your fucking throat.” The knife’s blade traces along the underside of my jaw. “Or do you want this to be your final meal?”
“I…I don’t know how!” The confession falls out before I can stop it, clenching my fists as shame heats my cheeks. “I’ve never—” I stop.
He grips my chin, forcing me to meet his gaze. “You’re lying.”
“I’m not.” Tears sting my eyes, the taste of him on my tongue.
“You’re telling me you’ve never sucked dick? Never let some asshole fuck your throat?”
I shake my head, my gaze darting to his knife, his cock, then back to his icy stare.
A low, dark chuckle rumbles from him, prickling the skin along my spine. “A filthy virgin mouth, huh? I like that. Tell me, kitten—what about that tight little cunt? Or that ass? Have they ever felt a cock?”
The words drip from his mouth like poison. Talking about me…like I’m some kind of plaything for him to break. Fear knots in my stomach, but there’s something else tangled up in it—something dark, something that I don’t want to acknowledge.
My face burns, heat flooding my cheeks. His smirk widens, catching that slip.
“Oh, you’re in for a real treat. I’m going to ruin every one of your fucking holes.
” He grabs a fistful of my hair, dragging me up to my knees.
Pain flares up my side from the shredded stitches, but that’s the least of my problems. He forces my jaw open, thumb pressing against my chin, fingers digging in.
I try to pull back, to keep my head, but a pathetic little sound escapes me—a whimper that betrays me in the worst way.
“Be good, kitten.” He pushes his cock into my mouth again.
His hips thrust forward, driving his cock deeper than before. I gag, my throat constricting around him, my hands gripping his thighs, nails digging into the fabric of his pants.
An ache slowly begins to build deep inside me. A forbidden, dark desire. A part of me that wants him to force himself on me. I can’t stop it, can’t ignore it, but I hate myself for feeling it.
This can’t be happening.
I can’t be wanting this.
I can’t.
His groans fill the air, mingling with my muffled whimpers, the sound of his flesh slapping against my lips. I’m suffocating on his cock, my vision blurring at the edges.
His thrusts grow erratic, his grip on my hair tightening, and he lets out a guttural moan, his entire body tensing.
“Swallow,” he grunts.
Hot, salty spurts of cum hit the back of my throat, forcing me to swallow, the taste thick and overwhelming. His rough grip keeping my nose buried against his pelvis.
I’m choking on him, on his cum, on the violation of it all.
Finally, he releases me, and I collapse, coughing and wheezing for breath, my lungs burning with each inhale. I push away from him, my hands scraping against the cold concrete floor as I crawl away.
“Not bad, kitten” he mocks, zipping up his pants.
I wipe at my mouth, trying to erase the evidence of what just happened, but I know I can’t.
Before I can gather myself, he’s on me again. His hand tangles in my hair, yanking me to my feet, the sharp pull sending pain rocketing across my scalp and forcing a strangled scream.
He slams me against the wall, a forearm pressing down hard on my chest, pinning me in place. The knife glints in his other hand as he raises it, bringing the tip to my lips, tracing them slowly.
“Let’s see how much you enjoyed that.”
He reaches down, his fingers slipping inside the waistband of my jeans, the warmth of his fingers sliding between my legs. I try to jerk away, but his weight holds me in place, the knife pressing harder against my lower lip, drawing blood. I inhale deeply as his fingers glide through my slit.
“You’re soaked.” His fingers move lazily up and down. “Tell me, what did you enjoy most? Sucking my cock or being held at knifepoint?”
I choke on my words, a humiliating flush spreading across my skin.
He leans in closer. “Don’t tell me you liked being forced?” His laugh is cruel. “A virgin who wants to be forced and used, treated like a dirty fucking toy. That’s what you want, isn’t it?”
I shake my head, shame burning in my cheeks, in my bones, in my core.
“You can’t lie to me. Your pussy is dripping wet, you filthy little bitch.” His chest presses harder against mine, fingers drifting lower until they press against my entrance. He starts to push in, one finger slipping inside, and I shove against him hard, breaking his hold.
“No!” The word rips from my throat. “Get the fuck off me! You sick fucking bastard!” With enough distance between us, I’m able to lunge for a glass bottle from the counter. Smashing it on the edge of the bar, I brandish the jagged edge at him.
“Sick? You’re the one who got off being forced to suck cock.” His eyes flick to the makeshift weapon, then back to my face.
I stumble, retreating another step. The broken glass bites into my palm, blood slipping down my wrist.
“You’re in way over your head, little girl. You’ve got no idea just how sick I am. And I’ve got time to play.” Bringing the finger he had sliding against my pussy to his mouth, he sucks it, turning his back to me. My stomach flips in disgust, and something dark coils in my gut.
He reaches the exit and pauses, glancing over his shoulder. “Run. Make me hunt. It’ll hurt more when I catch you. And I will catch you, A.” With a final, chilling look, he’s gone.
A.
Shit.
He found me. Of course he did. He’s a Sovereign—one of the absolute best at being the absolute worst. If he’s already tracked down where I work and the fake name I go by, it won’t be long before he digs up the rest. My past, my real identity—he’ll have it all in his hands soon enough. And when he does…
I’m dead.