Chapter 27 OLIVIA
OLIVIA
He does what he promises, fucking me with rough and brutal abandon. He yanks my sweater over my head, leaving me in nothing but my skirt, my bra, and my boots. I don’t even know how I’m getting out of here with no clothes on, but I don’t care. Nothing matters when I feel this fucking good.
Trace leaves marks all over my body; up my thighs, around my back, on my ass. Both from his fingers and his mouth, digging and scratching, only removing his mask to bite and suck. And he makes me come two more times before he flips me over, urging me to ride his cock.
I stand on wobbly legs, but I'd be lying if I said I wasn't still so possessed with this salacious need to please him.
To brand him with whatever mark I can make on him.
So I push him down into a nearby chair and climb on top of him, straddling his lap.
He lowers me down by my waist and I use his shoulders for purchase.
We both watch as he slides into me, stretching me once more.
I feel it in my cheeks, the heat and the tension and it makes me feel weightless yet so full all at the same time.
“Jesus, Olivia. Look at the way you fuckin’ swallow me. Your pussy is so needy.”
His words drive me insane, not sure how to handle the way he talks to me. But it turns me on even more than I thought, considering I’m sore and sensitive from all the stimulation. Still, I don't know if I can handle another orgasm. I fear it might rip me apart.
"Trace, I don't think I can-"
"Shh." He looks up at me; his eyes hold desire. Desire so fucking deep that it crafts a silent symphony of anguish and hunger to engulf me. "Just one more, baby. You can give me one more."
Once I take him all in, seated completely against him, I lean in and don’t even hesitate to do the same thing he’s done to me.
Mark him. I start to thrust up and down, swiveling my hips simultaneously—feeling the gentle scrape of his piercing inside me—as I attempt to bruise him where the tattoo of my lips are.
He groans aggressively when I start to suck, pushing his fingers into my ass even more, adding to the marks he’s probably already left there.
He helps guide me up and down, both of us rocking against each other.
And then I feel it . . . the unmistakable chill of metal against my spine. I freeze against him, my pussy clamping around his cock as my heart stops and my breath catches.
“Trace, what the-”
“Hm,” he growls. “Does that scare you, baby?” he asks, his eyelids heavy with lust and his body covered in sweat.
I risk turning, tilting my head to the side to glance behind me.
I need friction, but I have to know what he’s got behind me.
Trace glides the object up toward my shoulder, and I wait.
Frozen as I anticipate the reveal, but I have a feeling I already know.
How did I not notice he still had it on him?
“Or does it turn you on?” he whispers.
Suddenly, the tip of the pistol is sitting on the top of my shoulder, right where I rest my chin as I look behind me. He presses it to my lips and I hold my breath. My pussy throbs and he feels it.
“Such a fucking slut for this, aren’t you?” I have to swallow my whimper as he slides the gun back down my skin, tracing the tremble lines my body creates.
My chest tightens, my heart feels like it fissioning, my pussy is fucking greedy.
“Is the- is the safety off?” I ask with one part concern, one part intrigue, not sure what to expect. I turn my head to face him, watching the way his eyes eat me up. A sinful grin curls on his lips.
“Where’s the fun in knowing, Livie?” His dark whisper gets trapped behind his mask. Trace tilts his head and I shiver as he presses the gun into my side.
He can sense it. How fucked up I am. How much I crave this kind of danger.
And I already decided that I’m done hiding from it.
Trace would never hurt me, I feel that down to my core.
I know he knows what I like, I know he can read it all over my face.
Who am I to deny myself? Who am I to hide when he is clearly giving me what we both know I want?
Something that I know no one else will ever be able to do.
“What are you waiting for, Reckless?” Trace leans in, tossing his mask off his face and brushing his lips against mine. “Ride my fucking cock, baby. Make me come for you.”
And I do. I grip his shoulders, pushing myself up and down. My movements are eager, needy, desperate, rough. My clit is so overstimulated, but the danger in knowing that he’s got a gun pressed to my skin sends my nerve endings into a blitz of ecstasy, damn near detonating every time I thrust.
I hold onto him with one hand pressing into his shoulder and the other buried into the back of head, my fingers intertwined with his hair.
“You’re doing such a good job, baby,” Trace groans into my mouth, his other hand is scorching against my skin, pressed hard into my waist. “Take my cock like the good fucking girl you are, baby. Fuck me like I'm yours, Olivia.” Trace moans over and over, and it’s unlike anything I’ve ever heard before.
It’s carnal, it’s passionate, it’s sexy as hell.
Everything burns, but the flames spread and coil tight in my core and I feel the flood approaching once more. I feel the way I grip his cock, on the edge of coming undone. Shattering into a million tiny little fragments. A ragged exhale leaving me as I writhe against him.
"That's my fuckin' girl. I knew you could take one more." Trace praises me and it only sets off my release even more. I whine and whimper and moan, my body convulsing violently as I come.
"Go, baby," he chants. "Just like that, Olivia." I can't stop coming. It's ruthless and uncontrollable. But right as I start to feel the waves subside, and my heart doesn't feel like it's going to detonate from overexertion, Trace chuckles.
"Oh, you thought that was your last one?
" I gasp, shaking my head back and forth but he leans in, pulling the cup of my bra down with his teeth before sucking my nipple into his mouth.
His tongue piercing flicks against it and I fucking fold, slumping into him.
He keeps driving his hips up into me and I want to move, but everything is numb.
And then Trace's moans vibrate over my nipple, trembles breaking out all over my body when I realize he's going to come.
“Oh, fuck,” he growls through gritted teeth, and I clench around him, eager for him to fill me.
Trace drops his forehead to my collarbone and everything that is unholy unleashes inside of me when the very grown, sadistic, vindictive, and ruthless man I've come to know starts to whimper.
"Jesus," I purr, not realizing just how fucking sexy that would be. But it motivates me to pick up my movements, riding his cock so that I can make him come for me.
"Olivia," he moans.
"Yeah, baby? You wanna come for me?" I ask, digging my nails into his scalp as I hold his head against my chest.
"Please, I need it,” he begs behind soft whimpers. The brutal, unrelenting Trace from just moments ago has melted against me, transformed into a desperate and needy man. One that drives me wild.
“Come for me, Trace," I whisper. "Come for me like the good fucking boy you are, baby."
But before I can lift myself to pull him out, eager to take him deeper, Trace moves the gun from where he holds it, sliding it over my waist and toward my belly. I gasp as he lowers it to my clit and when presses the nozzle against me, I cry out. "Oh, god."
Wave after wave crashes against my core, drowning me in pleasure.
What is this? My third, fourth, fifth orgasm?
I've lost track, but each one gets better and better, making me feel like I'm shattering into oblivion, annihilating the remnants of my resolve. He continues his thrusts, fucking me relentlessly as the best orgasm I’ve ever had pulls me under, dragging me into whatever hypnosis he possesses. My fingers dig into his shoulders, so hard I’m sure I break skin.
“Look at me, Olivia. Watch me while I come inside you.”
I can barely open my eyes, it feels so good. But I feel his cock pulse inside me and when I'm finally about to open my eyes, desperate to witness what I do to him, I see…
I see a pair of familiar eyes. But I can’t even be sure the person standing in front of me is real.
My heart is racing, going about a hundred miles an hour in my chest as I try to take deep, intentional breaths but they only come out as short and sharp intakes.
Dizziness evades me and I feel like I might fall over.
“It’s okay. I got you, Liv.” His voice grounds me, soothes me as he holds me, rubbing his hand up and down my back as he holds me steady.
I don’t even care that we barely know each other. I need it. I need him. Something is wrong with me. I can’t fucking breathe.
The tears don’t relent, falling freely from my eyes as the snow melts into my hair, my clothing torn and my body feeling trapped, even though I know I’m not.
I am free, and I can feel the cold air sting against my skin.
But the echo of the scream still haunts me and I can’t go back.
I can’t fix it. But I want to. I want to make it right and change it.
To do something differently. But there wasn’t anything I could do.
But it’s not real, right? I’m just losing my mind.
I look up at him, hugging me with reassurance in his eyes. How can he be so calm when my mind is spinning, my vision is blurred and I can’t stop fucking crying.
“Shh, Liv. It’s gonna be okay,” he tells me, pressing his palm into my back in a gentle gesture, letting me know he’s got me.